


Demons

by moonstones42



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-01-19 21:33:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1484842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonstones42/pseuds/moonstones42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Aleksandra, a Russian grad-student studying in Germany, makes the decision to hide the god of mischief in her closet, she is pulled into a world of deceit, deception, and superheroes. Although she wants nothing more than to trust the seemingly kind and misunderstood Loki, Aleksandra becomes increasingly aware of a dangerous darkness within him. But even the heroes who proclaim to be on the side of justice aren't entirely trustworthy. As Aleksandra battles Loki's influence over her and befriends Bruce Banner, it becomes increasingly hard for everyone involved to discern the hero from the enemy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fugitive

Aleksandra frowned up at the sky as a rather imposing looking aircraft circled slowly overhead, the roar of its engines intruding on the quietness of the deserted street. She paused for a moment, but a gust of wind replaced her curiosity with a strong desire to return home. She pulled her jacket closer around her middle and continued across the square, stalking past the Arts Center before turning down her street. Upon reaching her door, Aleksandra tucked her newly purchased Russian newspaper under her arm and fished in her jacket pocket for her keys. Noticing the glow from the second-story window, she cursed her roommate under her breath as she jerked at the wonky knob before shouldering open the door.

“Stop leaving all the lights on, you wasteful little bitch,” she called out in angry Russian, shouting the abuse in the direction of her American roommate’s bedroom as she shrugged off her jacket. The rosy-cheeked undergrad Aleksandra shared the second floor with couldn’t tell the difference between even the most contrasting languages, and most of the more qualified students studying abroad had taken advantage of this disability from day one. One of Aleksandra’s favorite hobbies was shouting insults at the girl in Russian and then reveling in the far less impressive responses her roommate returned in unintelligent English.

“Kelsey has just left,” Isolda, her petite elderly landlady, said gruffly in German as she emerged from the kitchen. “But don’t worry, I gave her an earful before she left about wasting my electricity,” she added with a wag of her rolling pin, and Aleksandra felt some of the tension vacate her shoulders.  

“Thank you,” she said tiredly, and the old woman merely shrugged before returning to her baking. Aleksandra locked the front door behind her before tossing her keys on the coffee table, then began her ascent up the stairs to her bedroom.

She’d managed to jog halfway up the staircase before a deep rumbling sent the ground shuddering beneath her feet and caused her to trip on the slightly uneven stairs. She unsteadily lifted herself from the ground, batting away her dark hair in annoyance as she turned to see a bright light flash through the window.

“What on earth was that?” she cried as the walls trembled, and she gripped onto the banister for support. It sounded distinctly like a bomb, but Aleksandra couldn’t think of a single reason for there’d be explosions going off in this relatively upscale area of town. She’d spent hours researching the province's various neighborhoods for her dissertation on civil unrest in Germany, and she was sure there were no active rebel groups in the area, or even groups of teenagers fed up with governments they didn’t really understand. All was well in this neighborhood—so why had four explosions sounded in half as many minutes?

“They’d better not be starting another war out there,” she heard Isolda mutter as the old woman hobbled over to the window and peeked around the sheer curtains. “Dear lord,” Isolda breathed a moment later, and Aleksandra hurried down the stairs to crowd behind her.

“What is it?” she asked, trying to tug the curtain from Isolda’s grasp to get a view of whatever had made the least impressionable woman in all of Germany gape in disbelief.

“It’s him,” Isolda replied simply, finally releasing the fabric so that the entire view of the street was on display. Aleksandra sucked in a startled gasp as she caught sight of a human-shaped metal red and yellow suit hovering over a man dressed in blue. Hordes of finely dressed civilians shrieked as they fled the square. “It’s the Defender,” Isolda said in a whisper, and Aleksandra pulled her gaze away from the fray to frown down at the woman.

“Sorry the what?” she asked, and Isolda’s wrinkled brow furrowed as she gave her an odd look.

“The Defender,” Isolda repeated, but Aleksandra merely continued to stare blankly. “He saved my people from the tyranny of the Third Reich; in the states they called him Captain America or something ridiculous like that,” she added, and Aleksandra’s blue eyes widened in recognition.

“But I thought he fought in the second world war—what on earth is he doing in Germany now?” she asked, her heart rate increasing as she wondered what his presence might mean; was this a sign that America was planning to enter another war with Germany? That would be supremely stupid and completely unfounded, she knew, but stranger things had happened.

“Whatever his reason is, I just hope he’s still on our side; he was a deadly weapon if ever there was one,” Isolda muttered. The two of them instinctively jumped back as a blue light surged towards the soldier’s red white and blue shield only to bounce off of the metal surface. “And it looks as if he’s partnered up with that Iron fellow, Anthony Stark,” she added.

“Who’s that man? Who’re they fighting?” Aleksandra asked as she caught sight of a man in a horned helmet wielding the spear that had sent out the streaks of deadly light.

“Overlord of the reindeer?” Isolda offered, and despite the fact that she normally would have laughed at a comment like that, Aleksandra shot the woman an annoyed look. Aleksandra didn’t quite know why, but she felt wrong making fun of the man in the green cape, like she should defend him rather than poke fun at his unusual outfit.

“Ah, looks like Kris Kringle lost the fight,” Isolda said a moment later as Iron Man and Captain America moved to stand before the green-caped man who now resided on the ground beneath them. “I suppose they’ve got it all under control,” the older woman said as Captain America moved to grab the helmeted man’s arm, and she let the curtain fall shut. Aleksandra stared after her in disbelief as the woman hobbled back into the kitchen.

“What, that’s it? Don’t you want to know what’s going to happen next, why it happened in the first place?” she cried, following Isolda into the small room.

“Not particularly,” she answered, pulling open the oven door and placing a tray laden with dough inside.

“Why on earth not?” Aleksandra asked incredulously, unable to comprehend how the woman couldn’t be at least a little curious. “Something incredible just happened and you aren’t even a little bit interested?”

Isolda sighed, her dark eyes serious as she looked up at Aleksandra. “Listen, child, incredible things happen every day. When you’ve lived as long as I have, you learn to see past smoke and mirrors and appreciate the real miracles instead,” she said, holding up a hand when Aleksandra opened her mouth to protest. “What just happened out there was no different from a regular street fight, except the men had strange clothes, an airplane, and made a much bigger mess. Now, if you’d told me one of them managed to raise a family of nine on her own in just off of meager food rations during the Communist regime and now has six successful children, then maybe I might be impressed. Oh wait—I did that. So instead of gawking over the perfectly ordinary, I’m going to treat myself to some sweet bread and marvel over the truly impressive.”

Aleksandra stared at the woman as her words sank in, then cleared her throat as she looked down at the ground. “You’re right, Isolda,” she said. “I guess I just got a little over excited,” she admitted.

“There’s nothing wrong with being excited,” the woman assured her, coming over to place a wrinkled but strong hand on her shoulder. “You can swoon over Kris Kringle all you want—just don’t try to drag me into it,” she said, and Aleksandra’s eyes widened as her pale cheeks flushed with color.

“Swoon? I wasn’t swooning! No one was swooning over anyone!” she cried, and Isolda snorted.

“You were most definitely going moony over the reindeer man,” Isolda said definitively, and Aleksandra let out an incredulous laugh.

“No, I wasn’t,” she insisted, but Isolda ignored her words.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Aleksandra; plenty of women have had their hearts stolen by superheroes! My older sister was so infatuated with the Defender during her teen years that she covered her room with drawings of him once the war ended and was sure he would return one day to marry her.”

“I’m not some love-struck teenager!” Aleksandra reminded Isolda indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest, and Isolda outright laughed.

“Right, I’m sorry I forgot; you’re a love-struck girl in her late twenties; my apologies for not making the distinction.” Aleksandra glared at her, her red painted lips set in a firm line.

“Fine, deny it. But I know what I saw, and so do you,” Isolda said. Aleksandra, always determined to have the last word, was just about to voice her disagreement once again when a shout sounded from outside.

“It’s probably another one of Kelsey’s drunk lovers looking for money to buy more heroin with,” Aleksandra muttered darkly with a roll of her eyes. Of course, she’d rather have strung-out strangers interrupt her evening conversation than show up in the wee hours of the morning the way they usually did.

But even as she walked away from Isolda, Aleksandra continued the argument in her mind. What on earth made the woman think she was qualified to tell Aleksandra how she felt? Sure the man had appeared relatively handsome from her view down the street, but there was no way she’d ever admit that aloud.  Plus it wasn’t like she’d ever see him again—what was the point of fantasizing over a man she’d caught a distant glimpse of only to never encounter again?

Aleksandra was completely lost in her thoughts as she opened the door with the intention of shouting at one of Kelsey’s intoxicated boyfriends. So it took a moment for her mind to catch up to her vision when she caught sight of the man she’d just finished arguing about sprinting down the street in her direction.

His green cape billowed out behind him and his eyes were wide with fear as he glanced over his shoulder to where she was sure the two super-humans were following close behind. But his face seemed to light up when he caught sight of her, and Aleksandra knew she probably should have rushed back inside, locked the door, and pretended as if she hadn’t seen anything. Instead, she stood motionless in the doorway as the man approached, and ignored Isolda’s call to close the door.

“Please, may I request lodging within this dwelling?” the man panted in English when he reached the doorstep, and Aleksandra stared up at him for a moment, her head spinning—only because of his archaic vocabulary and use of her third language, she assured herself— before she moved aside with a nod. He brushed past her as he entered the house, and the incredibly soft fabric of his green cape slid across her arm as he stepped over the threshold. Aleksandra took a deep breath and momentarily closed her eyes, trying to clear her head as she closed the door behind him. She was pretty sure what she was doing was illegal, as she figured the United States government probably wasn’t too fond of the whole fugitive-hiding business.

“Follow me,” she said in rather heavily accented English upon turning to face him, interrupting the man’s rather long winded thanks to lead him upstairs and into her bedroom. “In there,” she instructed, gesturing to the wardrobe on the far side of the room. She saw the man’s face transform from relaxed to slightly haggard as it became clear to him that Aleksandra knew he was on the run. He dropped the façade of a weary traveler in need of shelter almost instantly.

“They will be going door to door in search of me,” he said as he pushed her clothes aside and folded his lanky body into the cupboard. She noticed he was no longer wearing his helmet—although he didn’t appear to be carrying it—and his clothes were now void of the leather armor that had overlain the fabric. Aleksandra forced herself to remember that his altered attire shouldn’t have been her main focus at the moment.

“So they won’t be here for a few minutes,” she reasoned, but the man shook his head.

“Only three of the lodgings on this road shone with light from within—yours was the second closest to the plaza.” Aleksandra barely had time to comprehend the man’s complex words before a pounding knock sounded at the door; Aleksandra jumped at the noise, her breath hitching in her throat as she tried to force her breathing back to normal. “Do not panic—everything will be fine,” he assured her with a kind smile, and Aleksandra swallowed hard with a nod before closing the door and concealing him in the wardrobe.

She heard Isolda open the front door, and held her breath as she huddled out of sight behind the banister on the landing. She prayed that the woman—or worse, the two men—hadn’t seen her lead the stranger inside; she honestly wasn’t sure whether or not Isolda would give up his location if she knew where he was hidden, or what the men would do if they found him.

“How can I help you?” Isolda asked in perfect English, sounding only slightly confused as she regarded the towering young man and metal giant standing before her.

“We’re looking for a man in a green cape, about 6’3 with long black hair that could use a wash,” Iron Man said, and the other man glared up at him.

“Do you mean the same man you just cost our city about 10,000 euros in damages while fighting?” Isolda asked, and Aleksandra bit back a laugh as Captain America turned his glare on her.  

“Yes, ma’am, we’re looking for that same man,” he said tensely, and Isolda shrugged.

“Well I haven’t seen him since your little skirmish in the square,” she said, then cocked her head to the side. “Why, did you lose him?” she asked in her trademark patronizing tone, and Captain America looked startled beyond belief; it was almost as if he’d truly believed until this moment that all old women were kind, sweet, and helpful.

“I…uhm…thank you for your help, ma’am,” he stuttered, taking hold of Iron Man’s arm to pull him away.

“Why are you thanking her? She was absolutely no help at all,” Iron Man said indignantly as they retreated, and she heard Isolda let out a quiet chuckle. Aleksandra felt herself release a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding as Isolda firmly closed and locked the door behind them.

She waited for the woman to make some remark about how unwise it was to hide a man wanted by the United States in their house, or to at least make a crack about how ridiculous Captain America had looked in his spandex jumpsuit. Instead, Isolda merely made her way back into the kitchen as if nothing had happened. Aleksandra paused for a moment before she scrambled from the floor and hurried back to her room.She peek out of her window just to make sure the men had indeed gone before she approached the wardrobe.

“You’re safe now,” Aleksandra told the man as she pulled open the cabinet, and he let out a sigh of relief as he unfolded himself from the small space.

“I am most grateful for your help,” he said. His large blue-green eyes, far more vibrant than she’d noticed before, were incredibly sincere as he came to stand before her. His face was so innocent it sent her heart aching at the thought of those two men hunting him down, and she wondered if he might kiss her as a means of thanks. A moment later the ridiculousness of such a notion broke through the strange haze that had descended upon her mind, and Aleksandra realized with a start that she had in fact been swooning; she tore her eyes away from his in an attempt to think clearly.

“Who are you?” she asked, and she made the mistake of looking back up at him as she spoke. His lips twitched upwards in a smile, and she fought hard to remain focused, to keep the fog away from her mind. “It is rather complex; may I not first know who you are?” he asked her, and she lifted her narrow chin ever so slightly.

“I’m Aleksandra Chirkoff. And seeing as I just saved you, I believe I’m entitled to know whatever I’d like to about you.” She’d done her best to communicate her message in rather unpolished English, and hoped this strange-speaking man had been able to understand her. He shrugged in response.

“Very well,” he replied in smooth, effortless Russian, and Aleksandra let out a small sigh of relief. It was hard enough for her to communicate with him when he spoke of simple things; she dreaded the headache she knew his English would have given her when the subject became more ‘complex’.

“I am Loki,” he told her after a pause, and Aleksandra gaped up at him, her red-painted lips opening and closing uselessly, when she realized there was no punch-line.

“You mean to tell me you’re the god of mischief? The Norse god? Like Odin and Thor and Hel and all of them?” she asked, her voice wavering and rising in pitch as she spoke. She’d heard of the strange, impossible things happening in America recently— of myths coming to life and legends becoming truth—but Aleksandra had never fully taken them seriously. Now, standing before this man who’d battled superheroes with a magic scepter, it seemed there was no denying the stories she’d heard. Loki gave a little shrug.

“More or less; we Asgardians are of course not really gods, but yes, I am Loki.”

“The trickster,” she muttered to herself, and his brow furrowed slightly.

“If you presume that I have in some way misled you, I can assure you I have not,” he said, taking a step closer to her, and although she would have taken a step away from any other man, Aleksandra remained stationary.

“Those two men, Iron Man and Captain America; they’re considered heroes aren’t they? And you, Loki, have never been altogether innocent,” she said, struggling to maintain her train of thought as he came even closer. She could feel that thick, warm haze descending upon her thoughts again, but she fought it off, desperate for information. “If they’re searching you out, it probably isn’t to congratulate you on being upstanding citizen of the year. I can’t help but think you’re the villain in this tale,” she told him breathlessly, the two of them now nearly nose to nose.

She glanced down at his lips, the urge to feel them against her own now far too intense for her to focus on anything else. It was too strong, whatever this strangely intense attraction was—there was no fighting it, no escaping it; she was trapped... but she didn’t care. She had no idea why she felt such a strong pull towards this man—towards this creature who was more than a man—but the pull was there, it was growing, and she no longer felt the need to resist it.

“Every villain is a hero in his own mind,” she heard Loki whisper, and his words barely had time to register in her mind before he closed the distance between them with a kiss. Aleksandra was slightly startled by the presence of his lips on hers, despite her slow, dull thoughts—it had been so long since she’d been kissed that she’d nearly forgotten what it felt like to be so close to another person.

She felt as if she’d been drugged, as if every one of her thoughts was conceived at the very bottom of a lake and slowly had to push its way to the surface.

But while her mind was slow and bogged down, her senses seemed to be acting on over-drive—every touch, every smell, every taste, was shockingly vivid, and Aleksandra found herself craving more of every sensation she experienced.

She could feel the warmth of Loki’s palms through her blouse as his large hands slid around her waist to pull her closer, and he held her gently against him with all the care of a man cradling a holy relic. His lips had an unusual softness, almost akin to that of rose-petals, and she wondered if he would taste as sweet as he smelled. She slid her tongue into his mouth, and when he pulled her closer with a possessive growl, the rumble in his chest sent her whole body vibrating. The pads of his fingers tickled her abdomen beneath her blouse, slowly moving upwards until his palms pressed into her stomach and his long fingers splayed across her skin.

Aleksandra heard his breath hitch when his fingers met the curve of her chest without the hindering obstacle of a bra, and his palms quickly followed to cup her small breasts. Aleksandra let out a soft moan as her chest was assaulted by a flurry of gentle touches and caresses, and the delicious sensations entered her head in a flood, the pleasure too much for her to keep up with.

Aleksandra pushed against Loki’s shoulders, and as she broke the kiss the feeling of overwhelming pleasure dwindled down to a more bearable level. When she reached up to massage her temples, her fingers were met by a light sheen of sweat on flushed skin.

“Have I done something wrong?” Loki asked, his voice a bit rough but full of concern, and she glanced up to see her scarlet lipstick smeared across his mouth.  

“No, not at all,” she assured him quietly, feeling entirely exhausted, and his brow furrowed slightly. Her brain seemed to have cleared by now, and the feeling wasn’t so different from waking up sober after a night of heavy drinking—thankfully, minus the nausea. The fog she’d been under had felt like the influence of a narcotic: it was deliciously addictive, and the moment it had stopped she was desperate for it to begin again.

“You’re doing everything right,” she assured him. “Better than right—oh, so much better,” she added breathlessly, thinking of all the wondrous sensations she’d just experienced and all the things he could do to her in future. Loki’s face relaxed in response, and he leaned in for another kiss.

But a tug in her gut made Aleksandra lean away from him, and her moment of hesitation was enough to send the look of concern flying back to Loki’s face. She knew that the moment their lips met again, the haze would be back full-force—and no matter how much she wanted to delve back into that strange state of consciousness, there were a few things Aleksandra wanted cleared up before she gave herself over to this man she hardly knew. She waited a moment for her brain to clear completely—or at least as much as possible—before speaking.

“Why were they chasing you?” she asked, and he slid his hands from her chest to rest them on her hips as he pondered her words. Aleksandra did her best to hide the surprise from her expression when Loki didn’t look down guiltily but instead held her gaze. Clearly he didn’t see himself as having been in the wrong.

“I have taken an object from their possession and they would very much like it back. It is an item they intended to use for evil but that I would like to use for good,” he said, and she frowned.

“What does it do?” she asked, and she felt a foreboding feeling begin to settle in her stomach when Loki didn’t answer right away.

“It is called a Tesseract. It can provide an infinite amount of sustainable energy to the planet,” he told her, and Aleksandra’s entire face lit up.

“You mean something like that exists?” she cried, her voice filled with pure elation. “Loki, that can save the world! We can stop destroying our planet and just rely on the Tessemact!” She beamed up at him, but Loki didn’t seem to share her excitement.

“I have told you what the Tesseract is capable of, not necessarily what they intend to use it for,” he said seriously, and her smile faded. “Those men would use the Tesseract as a weapon under the pretense of devising new military technology in order to protect themselves against beings from other worlds. However, it has been clear to me from the beginning that in due time they will only turn these lethal weapons on each other.” Aleksandra nodded in agreement, now thoroughly sobered.

“But what do you want it for then?” she asked, and he paused for a moment.

“I would like to protect the humans from themselves,” he said, staring at her earnestly. “You know how they are, you know what they can do to each other. The cruelest acts in Earth’s history have been performed on one human by another. I want to put a stop to that. I want to save you all,” he said, reaching up to cup Aleksandra’s face in his hands as he spoke. His voice was soft and sincere and it made Aleksandra feel not only safe and secure, but valued as well; if Loki didn’t care about her, why would he want to protect her? She could feel the dimness returning to her mind and leaned forward, brushing her lips lightly against his and shuddering at their softness.

“Do you promise to keep me safe?” she whispered against his mouth, their breath mingling as she slowly rubbed her nose against his.

“Always,” he assured her, and Aleksandra smiled before diving in and kissing him full on the lips.

 


	2. Companion

After only a few seconds of tender kisses Loki's hands found their way beneath her shirt once more, and Aleksandra gratefully noted that while the pleasure remained just as intense as it had been before, it was no longer quite as overwhelming. The absence of a painful pressure on her temples allowed Aleksandra to focus on performing her own actions as well, rather than merely reveling in the various delicious things Loki did to her.  

Acting on an almost primal hunger she’d never before experienced, Aleksandra pulled Loki by the lapels of his jacket across the room until she felt her mattress bump against the backs of her legs. She dragged him down over her on the bed, his hands leaving her body to rest on the mattress on either side of her head as he slid over her. She yanked his jacket from his shoulders with a strength she hadn’t known she’d possessed, and she fleetingly hoped she hadn’t hurt  him before she recalled that he was, of course, a god.

A moment later Loki broke the kiss to pull her blouse over her head, and cold air assaulted her skin in a rush as her entire torso was suddenly exposed. Aleksandra stared up at him, her heart hammering so loud in her chest it nearly pained her ears, and he returned her gaze with an expression of unabashed desire. As she lay there slightly shivering beneath him, Aleksandra wanted nothing more than for him to fully encompass her, to totally envelop her body with his own until he’d heated every inch of her with his warmth.

Almost as if he’d read her thoughts, Loki  ducked down to kiss at her neck, dragging his hot tongue along her throat as his warm breath tickled her skin. Aleksandra shivered and gasped at the sensation, writhing beneath him as those lips and tongue lavishly attended to her highly sensitized skin.

Aleksandra fumbled blindly with the buttons of his shirt as his mouth moved against her neck, shoving plastic through fabric until she was able to pull the blasted thing from his shoulders and toss it aside. Aleksandra took in a shuddering breath as Loki stretched out over her, his hips pressing down into hers. The distinct bulge against her pelvis sent her mind reeling as she desperately fought the urge to grind against him until one or both of them came their pants.

After a few more minutes of torturous self-denial, Aleksandra finally felt Loki's slightly trembling fingers working at the clasp of her pants. His knuckles pressed into her lower abdomen, where he seemed to have encountered some difficulty with the button.

"I've never been with anyone like this before," she heard Loki admit in a low, thick voice when he pulled his face away from her neck to tug at her tight fitting jeans. The nearly all-consuming lust Aleksandra already felt for him was suddenly accompanied by a rush of affection when she realized he was embarrassed by this fact; the idea that a Norse god—or an Asgardian as he'd referred to himself — cared enough about her opinion to feel embarrassed by his lack of sexual knowledge made her feel incredibly close to him, as if they’d shared a secret so monumental that they were now bound together by it.

"That's alright," she assured him with a breathless smile as she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, and she watched as his face relaxed at her rather tender expression of affection. He placed a soft kiss on her lips in response, and his mouth was so gentle on hers it sent a hungry shiver throughout her entire body. She wanted to devour his kindness, the urge to consume every gentle aspect of his being so strong that it genuinely terrified her.

Aleksandra had never before encountered anything like these animalistic urges; she’d always considered herself a cautious and gentle lover, never getting involved with anyone unless she knew at least a semi-long term relationship would stem from the encounter—and even then she’d always been highly selective about the people she dated. But although this sudden radical change in her demeanor made her feel increasingly helpless, Aleksandra couldn’t deny that her fear was equally matched by a starving excitement. She desperately wanted, maybe even needed, to see what would come of these carnal desires—to see what would come of being entirely reckless and irresponsible with Loki.

Giving herself over to this strange new hunger, Aleksandra shoved back on Loki’s shoulders without warning, pushing against him until he was sitting back on his heels. Loki looked completely dumbfounded at her sudden assault, and she couldn't help but smile at his startled look. She’d never been with a someone so inexperienced before, and there was something just so wonderfully endearing about his slightly apprehensive excitement, about the knowledge that she would be the first to ever see him this way, the first to ever share this with him.

"Sex really isn't all that difficult," she purred in his ear, smiling to herself as she watched his face take on a hungrier expression that she knew mirrored her own. She slid her hands up his chest, letting her fingers explore his smooth muscles and trace around his light pink nipples. Loki heaved heavy breaths as she sucked into his neck and let her tongue circle his Adams apple, and it quickly became clear that he would make quite an expressive lover. Her hands slid further downward over his stomach and her mouth followed suit, his pale skin warm and incredibly soft in her mouth. She sucked slowly at his abdomen as her hands slid up and down his thighs, occasionally flicking out her tongue to taste his creamy white skin and relish in the shivers she sent down his spine.

He sucked in a gasp when Aleksandra dragged her tongue in a flat broad stroke across his lower abdomen, and she curved her tongue back up to envelop his belly button with her mouth to provoke a low moan from deep within his throat. Aleksandra plunged her tongue inside and swirled it around the rim before she eagerly began to suck at his navel, her mind reeling at the strange and unexpected pleasure that the action sent coursing through her own body. Loki's muscles tensed and he squirmed in restless delight as her mouth worked at his navel, his hips twitching in desperate and confused want.

“You evoke within me the most wonderful of sensations,” Loki panted as his pelvis continued to shift and twist, and Aleksandra could tell he desperately needed more friction, some sort of contact, but wasn’t sure how to go about requesting the attention his body craved. His voice was tight and high, and Aleksandra felt the seemingly ever-present ache between her legs increase as she wondered what it would be like to hear him cry out in ecstasy, to hear his voice break as he experienced a pleasure strong enough to undo him completely. Aleksandra wanted to take him apart like that, to pull the most desperate and needy of screams from his lips.

With this goal in mind, Aleksandra shifted her attention to his crotch, slipping one hand between his legs to massage his stiffening cock through the fabric of his pants. Loki groaned when her hand came in contact with his groin, and Aleksandra pulled her face away from his stomach to watch the way his jaw slackened and his eyes fluttered shut in delight. She unclasped his belt with her free hand and tried to contain her own excitement when Loki gave a low groan as she removed the long strip of leather. She fumbled with the button of his pants, then pulled his dress slacks down over his ass with both hands until they rested on his mid-thighs. Aleksandra paused at the sight of his pale legs, her eyes scanning the incredibly tender and inviting milky white skin, before she glanced up to see a breathless Loki watching her intently.

Keeping her gaze focused on his trusting eyes, Aleksandra leaned down and placed an open mouthed kiss on the skin of his thigh just beside the elastic of his briefs. Her nose pressed against his leaking cock as a result, and Aleksandra’s couldn’t help but let out a throaty moan as his taste and scent flooded her mouth and nose, musky and rich.

Loki sucked in a sharp breath and his eyelids fell shut as she continued to kiss his inner thighs, and she felt a particularly strong throb between her legs as he let out a whimper and bit down on his lower lip.  Her heart pounded so hard she was sure he could hear it, and her breath was now coming in short, quick gasps. Aleksandra wanted to touch herself, to touch him, to do something, anything, to satisfy this terribly desperate ache that seemed to have taken over her entire body.

She jerked Loki’s pants down below his knees, then reached up to his hips and impatiently pulled at his dark blue briefs. With one swift tug Loki's raging hard-on was released from the confines of his underwear, Aleksandra letting out a desperate noise just at the sight of it. Apparently he'd been gifted with super-human abilities in all areas, Aleksandra reasoned, and she hurriedly climbed into his lap in her eagerness to see just how impressive his godly powers would be.

"Wouldn't it be wise to remove those first?" Loki panted with a slightly amused smile as he gestured down to her purple panties, and Aleksandra's face flushed in embarrassment, reason and logic clearly having abandoned her mind to make room for a colossal desire.

"Oh, right," she panted, scrambling out of her underwear as she tried to remove her clothing as quickly as possible. Once she'd gotten rid of the confounded undergarment, she returned to her seat in Loki's lap with her legs on either side of him and her arms firmly around his neck.

"Are you ready?" she asked him breathlessly, not quite knowing what she'd do with herself if he replied in any way other than the affirmative.

"Yes—definitely," he responded, wrapping his arms around her waist, and he gave her a fleeting smile before looking down between them as he guided his cock to its destination between her legs with slightly trembling fingers.

Aleksandra’s eyes squeezed shut and she let out a cry of surprise the moment she felt the pressure of Loki's deliciously thick, hot flesh pushing into her vagina. She had no regard for anything in the world other than the feeling of his cock sliding into her, and she buried her face in his neck as she continued to gasp for breath. She slowly pressed herself downward to push him even farther into her, tightening her grip on his shoulders as the mixture of pulsing pleasure and fading pain enveloped her whole body. She could feel that overwhelmed sensation beginning to return, creeping at the edges of her mind once more, and she fought to ignore it as she focused on just how good it felt to finally have Loki buried deep inside of her.  Aleksandra cried out as Loki suddenly went from small quick thrusts of his hips to full on bucking, thrusting with an intensity that sent her head spinning the moment his cock was completely buried inside of her.

She gasped into the crook of his neck as she tried to remain fully conscious while Loki shoved himself into her again and again, each time with even more force. His palms were pressed into her back to keep her breasts squeezed against his chest, and all Aleksandra could do was wrap her legs tighter around his waist in response to every grunt and growl he gave under his breath. With each thrust of his pelvis Loki's fingers clenched, and she could feel him dig his blunt nails into her back; but she was vaguely aware of the shockingly soft kisses he constantly applied to her shoulder despite his rough, animalistic thrusts.

Aleksandra’s head throbbed painfully, and she wasn’t sure she could go on much longer as Loki sent bursts of pleasure pounding through her with every thrust. It was too much; it felt too good; she couldn’t handle it. But she was so close—she could feel it. A few more seconds and she’d be there—if she could just keep holding on, just make it a little while longer through this wonderfully painful delirium, she’d experience a pleasure far greater than anything she’d ever encountered, and it would all have been worth it.

With these thoughts in mind, Aleksandra was able to push aside her spotty vision and splitting headache in favor of kissing and sucking at Loki’s neck, urging him on. But he ignored her, sticking to his own steady pace, so she reached up to tug at his long black locks in an attempt to provoke at least some sort of response from him. Loki let out a low growl that seemed to emerge from the very center of his core, and it sounded unlike any human noise she’d ever heard before. It was at least an octave lower than the most baritone voice, and it sent a vibration through Aleksandra that was almost enough—she was right on the brink now, so close to the edge.

She pulled harder, yanking down with as much force as she could muster, and she managed to provoke a deep, guttural moan from his throat. The sound alone was so powerful Aleksandra could have sworn she heard the window pane rattle, and she cried out as the vibrations sent a tsunami of pleasure crashing over her body. The sensation continued even after the vibration ceased, her muscles tensing and tightening in the most wonderfully delicious way. Aleksandra continued to shamelessly whimper with increasing volume as the tightening continued; every inch of her seemed to constrict and squeeze with this unimaginably intense pleasure. She gave a desperate scream as the feeling finally reached its peak, leaving her suspended in a cocoon of rapturous delight for a what felt like an eternity. When feeling finally gave she tumbled down from her high in a daze.  She breathed deeply, disoriented by a post-orgasmic euphoria, but her headache remained—and so did Loki, still pounding into her from below. To Aleksandra’s surprise, the pleasure almost immediately began to build up within her again, and Loki’s thrusts managed to provoke another hungry moan from her after just a few moments.

Loki’s breathing had grown far shallower during Aleksandra’s orgasm, and his nails now dug deeper into her skin as he brushed his lips across her clavicle. She nipped at his neck, eager to see if he could bring her to orgasm so soon again, and Loki let out a small keen that sent Aleksandra's hips pumping even harder. She rammed into him with as much force as she could muster until she properly straddled him, her knees resting on the mattress with his back supported by a pillow. Aleksandra yanked at his hair and opened her mouth wide, biting down hard on his neck as she hunched over him and jerked her hips back and forth as fast as she could. Loki groaned loudly as his hips sporadically pushed back against hers, and Aleksandra enthusiastically bounced up and down over him, crying out as she gripped the headboard and lifted herself up before shoving back down into him. Aleksandra cried out shamelessly as her final thrust sent her hurtling over the edge, and she was faintly aware of Loki groaning so loudly it sent her teeth chattering as he reached the brink of his orgasm. Aleksandra threw her head back and panted his name over and over again as the pleasure coiled within her once more, Loki still shouting as she clenched tighter. Aleksandra’s entire body began to tremble from prolonged exposure to such a wonderful sensation, and she’d just begun to wonder if perhaps this bliss was enough to actually liquefy her brain when Loki finally exploded within her.

Aleksandra  collapsed on top of Loki with a sigh of utter exhaustion once he'd finished. She used the few ounces of energy she had left to shift so that her head rested on his shoulder, and to her delight her headache slowly faded while the satisfaction did not.

Loki slowly grazed his fingers up and down her spine, and she listened to the soothing lull of his voice as he whispered quiet praise.

"If I'd known coitus could be that enjoyable, I would have engaged in it millennia ago," he joked after a few minutes of silence, and Aleksandra grinned into his neck, taking his hand and lacing her fingers through his.

“I think it’s best that I depart soon,” Aleksandra heard Loki mutter quietly, and she tilted her head to look up at him but didn’t remove her arms from around his neck. Whatever drug-like influence she’d been under had left her system by now,  but Aleksandra still thought about asking him to stay, even if just for a few more minutes.

However, she could tell by his gaze that he’d already resolved to leave as quickly as possible. “I must continue on with my plan or I’ll have no chance of succeeding,” he explained, and she nodded before slowly climbing out of his lap. Her dark hair fell into her face and she made no move to push it away, quite content with keeping her expression hidden.

She hated to admit it, but the idea of him leaving made her stomach churn with displeasure. Although she was now fully in control of her own mind—and definitely hadn’t been while they’d fucked—Aleksandra found that her feelings for him had only calmed, not faded. The initial sympathy she’d felt for him still remained, and this ridiculous sense that they were now somehow connected only strengthened her desire to remain with him.

“Well, good luck with the whole saving the world thing,” she told him in a voice tainted by far more bitterness than she’d intended as he pulled on his pants, and he glanced up at her. Aleksandra tried to produce a smile to mask her sullenness, but she could only manage a grimace. She quickly turned away from him.

“Come with me,” he said suddenly, forcefully, as he lunged onto the bed and tightly gripped her wrist.

“I—what?” she asked incredulously, momentarily distracted by the wildness of his gaze. When Loki only continued to stare at her, she let out a nervous laugh. While she desperately wanted him to stay here with her, Aleksandra had no intention of fighting men in spandex or metal suits. “You can’t be serious,” she said, and his brow furrowed as he let her arm fall onto the mattress. She cradled it to her chest, rubbing at the spot where he’d grabbed her as she watched him rise from the bed.

Loki began to pace back and forth with his hands clasped behind his back. He muttered something in a language she didn’t recognize under his breath, his face turned away from her as his long legs strode back and forth across the length of her room.

“Do you really want me to come with you?” she asked, and when he didn’t respond she reclined into the pillows, hoping the refreshing feel of the cool fabric against her skin might help her make sense of things. “Why on earth would you want me to accompany you?” she wondered aloud, glancing down at his belt where it rested against her naked hip, the black leather standing out against her pale skin.  I’m just your average human—I don’t have combat skills or super powers or—“

“Do you think this meant nothing to me?” Loki shouted suddenly, his face absolutely livid, and Aleksandra looked up at him. She instinctively shrank down into the mattress. He was gesturing between the two of them, and it took Aleksandra a moment to realize he was referring to the ‘coitus’ as he’d called it. She wasn’t sure if she should feel elated by his words or terrified by his tone; she settled for a fearful joy that was somewhere in between.  “I care nothing for powers or skills—I possess enough of both to sustain an infinite amount of men,” he huffed, the anger and aggression fading from his speech as he talked.

“I want you by my side as my companion, not my ally,” he said, his voice now transitioning to a velvety softness. Aleksandra was acutely aware of a strong ache between her legs as he returned to the bed. There was no hazy fog this time, but the desire was just as powerful, just as strong. She watched him intently as he took her hand and pressed a gentle kiss on her wrist where he’d tightly gripped her before.

“Come with me,” he repeated, his voice low and his warm breath dancing across her skin. Aleksandra didn’t respond but merely continued to stare at him with bated breath and wide eyes.  Loki began trailing soft, gentle kisses up her arm in response, repeating the phrase each time his lips brushed her skin. Aleksandra’s eyes fell shut and she let out a desperate whimper as his mouth made its way over her throat. She finally relented, unable to bear it any longer, when his lips brushed her jaw bone.

“Ok,” she breathed, and he nipped once at the skin of her jaw before pulling away.

“You might want to acquire a few more articles of clothing before we depart,” Loki added with a smile as he rose from the bed, his eyes scanning her naked body only partially concealed by the bed sheets. His voice was back to normal, and it took Aleksandra a moment to adjust to this sudden change. She took a deep breath before climbing up from the sheets and padding over to her dresser.

“Do I need to bring anything?” she asked, reaching down to run her fingers along the t-shirt she and all of the other students traveling abroad had immediately purchased upon their arrival in Germany.  It had a large picture of a jelly doughnut with the words “Ich bin ein Berliner” written in large letters across the chest, and for some reason the idea of leaving this shirt behind, this one piece of cloth she’d only worn twice before, seemed far more terrifying than the prospect of being on the run from superheroes.

“Everything you need I will provide,” Loki said gently, now standing close behind her. His hand rested atop hers and guided it away from the bundles of clothing, and she watched the shirt disappear from sight as he slowly slid the drawer closed. Aleksandra took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to stamp out the nervous twinge she felt in the pit of her stomach.

“Do you trust me? “ Loki asked, clearly sensing her anxiety, and she turned to see his blue eyes desperately searching her face. Aleksandra felt another surge of sympathy when she realized that Loki actually needed her to say that she did indeed trust him—whether it was true or not, the god of mischief needed to know at least someone felt they could rely on him.

“Yes,” Aleksandra told him, taking his hand in hers as she did so, and his face relaxed considerably.

“Good,” he sighed. “And Aleksandra, no matter what you are told or what events occur, do not forget that I would never commit any action that might in some way cause you harm,” he said, his voice soft once again and full of sincerity. Her brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to ask for a bit more of an explanation, but she pushed aside her apprehensiveness to instead focus on the sudden presence of the pad of Loki’s thumb slowly dragging across her bottom lip.

“Do you understand?” he asked, lowering his voice to the point that it possessed an almost hypnotic allure. Aleksandra didn’t respond right away, hoping Loki would resort to trying to get the answer out of her the way he had before. Sure enough, his thumb slid slowly over the ridge of her teeth and into her mouth. She slid her tongue against the tip of his thumb in response, her breath now slightly uneven.

Loki watched her hungrily, and Aleksandra wouldn’t have been surprised if by now he’d forgotten his question all together.  Aleksandra’s eyes fell shut as Loki pushed his thumb farther into her mouth, the pad dragging over her tongue, and she closed her lips around his bottom knuckle. Then, slowly, she began to suck at it— long, drawn out pulls as she insistently stroked with her tongue. She continued for a few moments to the sound of Loki’s heavy breathing until she heard him let out a strangled gasp. His thumb was suddenly ripped from her mouth, and she opened her eyes to see that he’d turned away from her. His shoulders rose and fell heavily as he gripped the window pane, and Aleksandra wondered how he would respond— how would he react to being bested by a mere mortal?

“Finish dressing quickly; we need to depart before my window of opportunity closes,” he said, and the calm curtness of his voice was like a slap to the face. Despite his initial reaction, he seemed totally unaffected by her actions; Aleksandra found herself wondering if this was the first time Loki had been contested by a human, and if perhaps he merely didn’t know the proper course of action.

Aleksandra took a deep breath, glancing at Loki’s rigid back, before she pulled open her dresser and did as she was told.


	3. Taken

"So are you actually going to tell me where we're going at some point?" Aleksandra whispered as she followed Loki down the stairs, now clad in her favorite jeans and a long sleeved shirt she'd 'borrowed' from her sister a few years back. She took a deep breath, relishing in the feeling that she was finally herself again—for the past hour or so she’d felt as if she were living someone else’s life, speaking someone else’s words, thinking someone else’s thoughts.  The familiarity of sassing someone who was clearly not in the mood to be sassed made Aleksandra feel as if she was finally living in her own skin again.

"You need only follow me," Loki told her without looking over his shoulder as they reached the base of the staircase. She shrugged on her jacket but then paused, hurrying over to the table where she'd left her keys. Aleksandra grabbed the pen and pad of paper that sat beside Isolda's telephone but then hesitated, not quite sure what to write.

Family emergency, she scribbled, ignoring the fact that it was the most overused excuse in the book. Don't worry, be back soon. Aleksandra capped the pen but then a moment later she crossed out the word soon. Loki had given no indication that this voyage to wherever they were going would be a brief one, and she didn't want to worry Isolda if she wasn't back for a few days.

"Are you ready?" Loki asked, his hand resting on the doorknob, and she nodded. He offered her his hand with a small smile and she took it, his long fingers around hers offering her a strangely intense sense of comfort. She took a deep breath and put on a brave face as they stepped out into the street.

She and Loki walked hand in hand down the sidewalk, Aleksandra occasionally having to jog to keep up with his long strides. The streetlight at the far end of the road had been taken out during the fight that had occurred in the square what seemed like months ago, leaving the area ahead of them shrouded in darkness. After a few minutes of walking, when Aleksandra was just about to wonder aloud why exactly Loki was so anxious about returning to the deserted, destroyed square, they came to a halt. Aleksandra quickly glanced around but could see nothing out of the ordinary, although Loki clearly seemed to be waiting for something.

"Ah, well look who's finally come out of hiding," a voice called from her left, and Aleksandra spun towards the noise. Loki didn't even bother to turn his head.

Captain America emerged from the shadows, casually wielding his shield with a smile so confident it bordered on cocky.

"And it looks like he's found himself a friend," Iron Man added as he slowly walked forward, the suit that appeared so light and agile in flight clearly rather heavy on land. Aleksandra felt Loki's grip on her hand tighten at Iron Man's words, and she hoped another fight wasn't about to break out between them.

"I've come to surrender," Loki said strongly, and all three of them, Aleksandra included, looked at him in surprise. After all his talk of going against these men, of being on the right side of the battle, he was just going to give up? Aleksandra watched as Iron Man shot a flame from his hand into the sky, and a few seconds later she heard the drone of the aircraft she'd seen earlier. Loki stood motionless, staring straight ahead, as the ship landed and a woman dressed in a form-fitting black spandex outfit leapt down from the hatch.

"Hold out your hands," she demanded, and Aleksandra gave a slight start when she picked up a hint of a Russian accent in the woman's words. Loki complied without hesitation. Aleksandra let his hand slip from her grasp and she stood uncomfortably by his side; oddly enough, she only began to feel out of place now that she was without his touch.

The woman restrained his wrists with a pair of sleek looking handcuffs, and Aleksandra couldn't help but think this 'security measure' more than a bit ridiculous.

"You too," the woman said as she came to stand in front of Aleksandra, and Loki frowned.

"Is that really necessary?" he asked, his voice betraying a hint of annoyance, but the woman ignored him to slide the metal bands onto Aleksandra's wrists. They gave off a strange heat, as if they possessed a life of their own, and the woman smiled when she saw Aleksandra's look of confusion.

"The metal's infused with hyponovilride—the strongest metalloid yet discovered. Not even the power of the gods could break through those," she said with a meaningful glance at Loki, who merely shrugged.

The woman turned away and began walking back towards the ship, and Iron Man took Loki's arm and led him along behind her. Captain America reached for Aleksandra, but she immediately jerked away from him.

"I think I can find my own way, thanks," she muttered, and his blond brow furrowed slightly. But he gave a shrug as if to say ‘have it your way’ and allowed her to enter the ship unaccosted. She sat beside Loki on one of the benches lining the interior of the ship, and as the hatch closed she instinctively scooted closer to him. Loki looked over at her for the first time since they'd left Isolda's house, and the way his blue eyes seemed to radiate comfort immediately put her at ease. Don't worry, his expression seemed to say. I've got this all under control.

"No talking," Iron Man suddenly called, and the entire crew, who'd been silent for the duration of the flight, instantly looked to him.

"Perhaps you hadn't noticed, but not a single one of us has yet to utter a word," Loki said in an incredibly condescending tone, and Aleksandra did her best to smother her giggle with a cough.

Iron Man had just opened his mouth to respond when a flash of lightning was quickly followed by a sudden burst of thunder. Loki jumped at the noise, and Aleksandra felt a foreboding feeling in the pit of her stomach as she recalled the stories her father had often told her as a child.

Perhaps Thor is on his way to rescue his brother—maybe that had been Loki's plan all along, Aleksandra thought as the sounds grew louder. But one glance at Loki completely invalidated that idea. He looked panicked, almost terrified, and she couldn't help but wonder what kind of family issues not mentioned in mythology the Norse gods had gone through to make Loki so dread his brother.

"What, scared of a little lightning?" Captain America joked, and Aleksandra was tempted to punch him right then and there. Even the woman in black looked a little nervous, and Iron Man was discreetly gripping his bench, yet the man in spandex found the time to make jokes.

"Not at all; I'm more concerned about what comes after," Loki said calmly despite his expression, and Aleksandra watched Iron Man's eyes widen in realization.

She let out a terrified shriek as the aircraft's hatch was suddenly ripped from its hinges, the air surging from the cabin with an alarming force. A tall, incredibly muscular man in a red cape landed before them, brushing his long hair from his face before he lunged in her direction. Aleksandra let out another scream, this one more out of indignation than fear, as Thor grabbed Loki's shirtfront and lifted him from his seat. Aleksandra could hear other voices yelling in the background, but they were just a garbled mass of words in a language she'd never particularly liked.

"Put him down," she shrieked as Loki struggled with his brother, and Thor gave her a slightly puzzled look before he leapt out of the airship, taking Loki with him. Aleksandra watched in frozen horror for a moment before she spun to face the other three startled looking passengers.

"Don't just stand there—go after him!" she cried, so filled with emotion that she shouted in Russian rather than English. Nonetheless, shrieking angrily while gesturing to the open hatch of a plane seemed to be a universal gesture; Iron Man took off after Thor without hesitation.

Aleksandra sat slumped on the metal bench, her shoulders shaking with cold, anger, and fear as she stared out of the open hatch and into the darkness. Captain America had leaped out of the plane after Iron Man without so much as a parachute. Aleksandra knew they’d do their best to bring Loki back, but that knowledge did nothing to settle her nerves. Of course Loki’s safety wouldn’t be their top priority, and Aleksandra knew that just because he’d come back didn’t mean it would necessarily be in one piece.

To make matters worse, she couldn’t even hope that the two superheroes would merely fail to rescue Loki. She’d seen the look of fury in Thor’s eyes, and was sure that ‘brotherly love’ wouldn’t be enough to keep him from roughing Loki up a bit. Granted he did look sorrowful as well as angry, but if the stories she’d heard were true, then it wouldn’t take much for Loki to rile him up to the point that annoyance outweighed sorrow. Aleksandra still feared for Loki, whether he was located by the Americans or left in the custody of his brother.

“Here, take this.” Aleksandra was pulled from her thoughts as the leather-suited woman approached her, an aviator jacket in hand. Aleksandra lifted her bound wrists as if to say I’m not quite sure what you expect me to do with that, and the woman hesitated for a moment before she draped the jacket over her shoulders.

“Thank you,” Aleksandra said, but the woman didn’t respond as she kicked aside the bag full of spare pilot uniforms and returned to her seat. The woman’s gesture may have been civil, but there wasn’t even the slightest trace of kindness in her expression; clearly she regarded Aleksandra as someone to be wary of, someone potentially dangerous. But, although her wrists were bound, Aleksandra had no intention to behave or be treated like a prisoner.

“Were you born in Yekaterinburg?” she asked in her native tongue, and the woman glanced up at her but quickly looked away. “I can hear it in your voice; your English is perfect, but you undeniably grew up somewhere in Russia. You’ve got the same accent as my cousins who grew up there.” Aleksandra waited patiently for a response but when none came she merely changed the topic.

“Despite my menacing appearance, I’m not dangerous, you know,” she said, and the woman snorted.

“I suppose if you were, you’d let me know?” she asked in Russian, her tone mocking, and Aleksandra couldn’t help but smile.

“I don’t think I’d have to,” she replied with a shrug. “I get the feeling you’d be able to judge my villainy for yourself.” Something in the woman’s gaze seemed to shift at Aleksandra’s words, and she felt as if she’d managed to gain at least a little of this stranger’s respect.

“What’s your name?” the woman asked, and Aleksandra shook her head.

“You tell me first,” she said, and the spandex-clad woman’s eyes widened as an amused smile tugged at her lips.

“And why should I do that?” she asked, standing to cross her arms over her the swell of her chest. Aleksandra shrugged casually as the woman approached.

“I’m clearly the one at a disadvantage here; there’s no harm in you telling me your name first,” she said, and the woman squatted close before her. Aleksandra’s eyes widened in surprise at her sudden proximity, the woman’s green eyes studying her face.

“I can see why Loki’s taken such an interest in you,” she said, and Aleksandra wasn’t sure whether to take the words as an insult or a compliment.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, and the woman smiled as she rose to her full height again.

“You can call me Natasha,” she said in response, and Aleksandra snorted.

“Do you have a problem with my name?” she asked, and Aleksandra arched an eyebrow.

“Not at all, except for the fact that it’s clearly fake; a mysterious Russian woman named Natasha? What an anomaly!” she said, and the woman merely shrugged.

“You asked for a name and I gave you one. Now, keep your side of the bargain and tell me yours,” she said, and Aleksandra couldn’t help but wonder why this woman suddenly seemed to take this little name-game so seriously.

“Aleksandra,” she said, not giving her sir name. Of course, she knew that if this woman had the resources of the US government at her disposal, she could no doubt find it with ease.

“Oh yes, and your name is so original,” Natasha quipped, and Aleksandra impulsively stuck her tongue out at her. Natasha looked surprised but thankfully not agitated, and Aleksandra wondered when the last time this woman had taken a moment to relax and enjoy herself had been. Probably far too long ago.

A mechanical whining noise sounded from beneath their feet, and as Aleksandra’s metal bench began to vibrate she realized it must be the sound of the aircraft’s wheels lowering. She quickly turned to look out of the open hatch, the closest thing to a window in the cabin area, but could still only see the cloudy night sky. Unable to hold onto the bench for support, Aleksandra was glad the plane didn’t land the same way most commercial crafts did as she swayed with the movement of the ship.

As the plane lowered itself onto the landing pad she finally caught sight of a string of lights that formed a square border in the distance, although beyond the lights she could still only see clouds—no horizon. Aleksandra lifted her hands to rub at her eyes, but when she turned back to look at the hatch her gaze was instead focused on a swarm of very confused, very heavily armed men.

“Where is he—and where are Stark and Rogers?” the man nearest to the ship called as he and the other helmeted men jogged closer, and Natasha rose from her seat. “And who’s she?” the man added with a jerk of his chin towards Aleksandra, but Natasha ignored him.

“Tell Coulson we’ve encountered a slight complication,” she said calmly, and the man looked as if he wanted to protest if only to ask more questions. But when it became clear that Natasha expected her orders to be carried out immediately, the man lifted his sleeve to his face and dutifully conveyed her message.  

* * *

 Aleksandra leaned back in the incredibly uncomfortable chair with a sigh, her fingers drumming on the cool metal surface of the large table before her. She was nervous, there was no denying that fact, but her anxiety was almost outweighed by her annoyance. Aleksandra had repeatedly told everyone she’d come in contact with that she wasn’t a danger, that there was no need to keep her wrists bound or drag her down the corridors like a common criminal.

Her voice had grown increasingly louder and less polite as the minutes had worn on, and fuming silently in this metal box of a room had done nothing to improve her mood. She wanted to be released, to be treated like a normal human being—and, most of all, she wanted information. Who exactly were these people, and why couldn’t they see that she wasn’t a threat? Where was she, and what were they planning on doing to her? And, of course, where was Loki?

Aleksandra gave a start as the door suddenly burst open, and tall man with an eye patch and an unsettlingly grim expression swept through the doorway. She’d spent so long alone with her thoughts that she wasn’t sure if she could speak comprehensible English at the moment. However, this didn’t seem to be a problem as the stranger merely kept his single eye focused on her as he stalked back and forth like a lion watching his temporarily unattainable prey. Aleksandra ceased her finger drumming, deeply unsettled by this man with a long scar slashed down his face and his hands rigidly clasped behind his back.

After what seemed like hours, he finally ended his pacing and came to a halt, still facing the wall ahead of him as if he hadn’t even registered Aleksandra’s presence in the room.

“There’s something I don’t quite understand, Miss Chirkoff, and I’d like for you to explain it to me,” he said, and Aleksandra gave a start at his unexpected speech. He turned towards her, taking a long stride so that he was close enough to lean on his palms against the metal table. “Why are you here?” he asked, and she raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“I thought the United States government usually figured that sort of thing out before they kidnapped people,” she said, and he raised his eyebrows as well, his lips quirking up to the side ever so slightly.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not the United States government,” he said as he pulled up a nearby chair and leaned back with his hands clasped behind his head. Aleksandra had expected him to comment on her remark regarding kidnapping, and the fact that he’d failed to reference it made her wish she hadn’t been separated from Loki; she was sure a familiar face would make the possibility of being detained by a mysterious agency for no clear reason a bit easier to bear.

“Then who are you, exactly?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“We don’t have to tell you that,” he said, and Aleksandra felt that all too familiar frustration begin to rise once more.

“Why are you keeping me here?” she asked, and he shrugged once again.

“You tell me,” he said, and she let out an angry huff as she squeezed her eyes shut.

“I don’t know,” she ground out, opening her eyes to see him watching her with an infuriating grin.

“I think you do,” he corrected, and she glared at him fiercely, her hands balling into fists.

“Loki,” she answered finally, and he gestured for her to continue. Aleksandra wasn’t sure exactly why this man was being so difficult; surely someone had informed him the moment she arrived that she’d been accompanying the Asgardian. Furthermore, what did it matter? She wasn’t relevant at all, as she’d tried to get the armed men who escorted her to this cold room to understand; she had no new information, no “intel” whatsoever to offer. Why wouldn’t this man just leave her alone?

“What more do you want me to say?” she asked, and he ran a hand over his face before leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

“Look, I’m getting tired of this, Miss Chirkoff; either you tell me what I need to know, or we move on to the next phase of interrogation. The less pleasant phase.”

“But I don’t even know what you want from me,” she cried, giving a little shriek when he suddenly leapt from his chair and lunged towards her. There was a loud bang as the man slammed his palms flat on the table, his imposing form now looming over Aleksandra.

“Tell me why you’re here,” he said, his voice terrifyingly low, and she felt her eyes water with frustrated, exhausted tears.

“I don’t know,” she said for what felt like the tenth time, her tone far feebler than she’d intended. The man stood motionless for what felt like ages, and she stared down at her bound wrists, tensely awaiting his next words.

They could do anything they wanted to her, she realized, and fear gripped her stomach in a way she’d never known before. It didn’t matter if she cried out for help—they were all on the same side, all working under the same chain of command. Isolda had no reason to be worried for her, and even if the old woman did search her out there was no way she’d ever find her.  Laws were irrelevant here, and even if the most horrible acts occurred and were reported, no evidence would remain. She was invisible, never to be missed, heeded, or found—and the narrative never ended well for invisible girls.

The man moved away from her without warning, and Aleksandra was left alone before she could even register that he’d silently stalked from the room.

“What’s going to happen to me?” she cried suddenly, the loudness of her own voice sending a pang through her aching head. When there was no answer she jumped up from her seat, her chair falling to the ground with a clang, and ran to the other side of the table.

“Tell me where I am,” she shouted, angrily banging her fists on the door. Aleksandra paused and listened closely, but wasn’t surprised when there was no sign that she’d been heard. She momentarily considered pounding on the door again, but thought against it when her head throbbed once more.

Aleksandra leaned back against the door and sunk to the ground to rest her elbows on her knees with an exhausted sigh. She buried her face in her hands as best she could with her bound wrists, and wished there was some way she could escape this metal box on her own.

She’d hated the idea of a “damsel in distress” from the moment her father had introduced her to the westernized versions of a few traditional German fairy tales, and even now she resented the idea of needing a man to rescue her.

But it was clear to her that unless the one-eyed man suddenly changed his mind and released her, Loki was her only hope of escape.


	4. Diplomacy

Aleksandra let out a shriek as a large armor-clad man barreled through the doorway of the cell, his face the same bright red hue as his cape and twisted into an angry snarl. She’d returned to her chair after what had felt like hours of moping on the floor, and she now jerked back so far in her seat the front legs lifted off the ground. She honestly wasn’t sure whether or not the large metal table before her would in any way deter the blond man from reaching for her throat, but she gripped onto it for dear life nonetheless.

It took Aleksandra a moment to realize that this furious creature was in fact Thor, the same man who’d radiated rage as he’d ripped off the metal door of an aircraft in order to steal away his younger brother.

“Why are you here?” he roared, and Aleksandra was able to swallow her frustration at being asked that same infuriating question once more, but she found it considerably more difficult to hide her fear. She’d been wary of the previous one-eyed man, knowing he could order any number of atrocities if she failed to cooperate; but this man looked as if he’d snap her spine clean in half without hesitation or regret, whether she provoked him or not.

“Loki,” she answered simply, providing him with the same answer she’d given her previous interrogator. Thor’s eyes darkened and he loomed over her, his grip so tight on the ends of the table she could hear the metal bending beneath his fingers.

“You stay away from him,” he growled, and Aleksandra hesitated for a moment, trying her best to hold back a snarky comment and contain her fear at the sight of his incredibly strong hands. She could tell she’d hit a sensitive subject by bringing up Loki, despite Thor’s roughness with his brother on the aircraft, and she hurriedly tried to assess how to proceed.

“He’s the one who brought me here,” she said with as much patience as she could manage, and he slammed his fist down on the table with such force the surface sank downward beneath his hand.

“Do not lie to me,” he roared, spittle flying, and Aleksandra bit down hard on her bottom lip as she tried for what felt like the millionth time to hold back angry tears.

“I’m not lying,” she shrieked as she flew from her chair, her voice bordering on hysterical, and he let out a mocking laugh.

“And I suppose I’m expected to believe a conniving, insidious harpy over my own eyes?” he asked, and almost without thinking Aleksandra slammed her fist into his nose. Thor cried out and stumbled backwards, covering his nose with his hands as shimmering liquid gushed from between his fingers.

“You hellion!” he shouted, lowering his hands from his suddenly miraculously clean face to clench his fists at his sides. “You will regret that,” he said darkly as he approached, and Aleksandra desperately wished there was more between them than the metal table whose surface he’d easily impressed with a crater. She’d thoroughly enjoyed releasing her built up tension in the form of a blow to Thor’s face, but now she feared the consequences of assaulting a god would be far more taxing than the action was rewarding.

Unfortunately, Aleksandra’s fear had always been accompanied by an outspokenness she often later regretted.

“Perhaps instead of blaming me for your familial issues, you should look a bit closer to home for a solution,” Aleksandra said as she crossed her arms over her chest, discreetly taking a step back for Thor’s every step forward.  

“Do not speak to me in that way,” he shouted, surging forward with such haste that Aleksandra stumbled backwards until her back hit the cell’s metal wall. “I do not care what he’s told you, it is you and your kind who have taken him away from us,” he said with such passion Aleksandra felt as if she couldn’t go on without some sort of explanation for his rage.

“My kind?” she asked incredulously. “What exactly is it you think I am? I have no power, no skills, no influence over him! I merely followed where he led me, and it is because of you that I’m now alone in this terrible place without a clue,” she cried, her voice rising in pitch as she spoke. It was Thor’s fault she was here in this cold barren room without Loki, without any idea of why everyone seemed to think she was some sort of evil mastermind with a plot to destroy mankind. Perhaps if Loki were here he could convince them of her innocence, explain why the two of them were here and what their intentions were.

Better yet, perhaps Loki would take the time to explain to Aleksandra exactly why he’d allowed them to be captured by these Americans in the first place. That was the question the one-eyed man had asked her over and over again, and while Aleksandra herself had no idea, she was sure Loki’s answer would get her out of this uncomfortable room.

“They told me you’d be sneaky, but they clearly underestimated your powers of trickery,” Thor said, and Aleksandra frowned at the ripe disdain in his voice.  “I suppose this is how you seduced my brother, no?” he snarled, and Aleksandra felt her face flush bright red as she discovered another bone to pick with Thor.

“I did not seduce him!” she cried, wishing she could ignore the intense embarrassment she felt at discussing the topic with a man she’d only known for a few minutes—Loki’s brother, no less!  

“More lies. But no matter,” he said with a shrug, and she wondered if perhaps she’d finally managed to placate him. “You will release him from your influence this instant,” he added with a sudden force, and she groaned.

“I have no influence,” she cried, and Thor let out a huff of frustration.

“Can you not see that you’re ruining him? That your actions not only endanger us all but are killing him as well?” Thor asked, and Aleksandra realized with a start that perhaps Thor wasn’t the villain in this scenario. Thor’s expression was surprisingly similar to that of Aleksandra’s younger sister when she’d been convinced that Aleksandra had gotten too involved with a ‘dangerous, dirty scumbag’ in her sophomore year of high school. Perhaps Thor was merely doing the same, trying to protect the man he believed to be his troubled sibling.

Convincing Thor of her innocence and regretful ignorance now seemed imperative if Aleksandra had any hopes of gaining him as an ally. She hated the idea of being totally alone in such a foreign place, and despite his odd comment regarding her relationship with Loki, he seemed as if he’d be a valuable colleague if she could manage to win his favor. She took a deep breath before speaking again.

“Look I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but swear I would help if I could. If you’d just explain all of this to me, I promise I’ll do all that I can to set this all straight. I care about Loki just as much—“ Aleksandra had watched as Thor’s face had grown calmer as she’d spoken, but he now exploded with fury at her last few words.

“Do not try to pretend that you give a damn about my little brother! That you care about his safety! You are the one doing this,” he roared suddenly, and Aleksandra jerked away from him as his eyes flashed with a terrifying new intensity. All thoughts of working together gone, Aleksandra embraced that all-too familiar frustration being shouted at always seemed to provoke.

“I’m just trying to help him,” she cried, and his shoulders heaved as he took in heavy breaths and prepared to retaliate. “Let me talk,” she shouted, and his glare intensified but he remained silent. “You’re the one getting in the way,” she said in a strained voice, and his face grew red. “I’m trying to help him, but I can’t because you burst in without warning, without consideration for anyone else, and swept him away! You’re the one ruining everything, not me!”

“I’m doing no such—“ Thor began in a bellow, but Aleksandra cut him off.

“Stop shouting and just listen to—“

“I do not have time for your nonsense!” he thundered, slamming his fist into the wall just beside her head. Aleksandra shrieked in the most embarrassingly undignified manner and jerked away from him, covering her face with trembling hands. She found herself shaking and crouched on the floor, and although she was confident he wouldn’t actually harm her, she couldn’t push away her terror.

“Why won’t you just listen to me?” she cried, and Thor responded by ramming his foot into the wall.

“Do not speak!” he roared, and she clenched her fists to keep from screaming aloud in anger. “I am going to save my little brother, and if you do not cease your interference I cannot guarantee you’ll survive the impending confrontation,” he growled, then turned on his heels and swept from the room.

* * *

 Bruce Banner looked up from his notebook with a start, ignoring Tony Stark’s raised eyebrows as the man they called Thor angrily swept into the room. Thor’s blue eyes flashed and his thick arm muscles bulged as he paced back and forth, his massive hands balled into fists and his red cape billowing out behind him.

“That wench should be expelled from this craft at once!” he bellowed, and Bruce set down his pen and sat up a little bit straighter as Fury approached the fuming Asgardian. Bruce had been informed only minutes ago that the woman in question was a Russian graduate student studying in Germany with nothing in her background to suggest that she was dangerous. Even the cynical Fury didn’t seem to really think she was a threat; what reason could Thor possibly have for demanding her expulsion?

“What did she say to you?” Fury demanded, but Thor ignored his question in favor of slamming both fists down on the table.

“Remove her from this ship,” he bellowed, and Bruce cringed a little as spittle flew from the man’s mouth and onto the metal table.

“Perhaps if you provided a little more reasoning and a little less shouting, we’d be more likely to consider your request,” Natasha said from across the table, leaning back with her arms crossed over her chest.

“She is deceitful, devious, and downright annoying,” Thor growled, and Natasha raised an eyebrow.

“I still see no reason to remove her from the ship,” she said, glancing to Tony and then Bruce. “Do either of you have an opinion?” she asked, and Tony made a point of pretending to be engrossed in the operations of his large wristwatch. Bruce merely shrugged.

“Well I’m glad the two of you are so vocal,” she said with clear annoyance, and Fury chuckled.

“Maybe she isn’t here for the reason you think she is,” Bruce offered after a few moments of silence during which Thor continued to fume. Natasha’s cat-like gaze flickered up to his face from where she’d been studying her nails.

“Do elaborate, Dr. Banner,” Fury said, coming forward to sit on the large table. Bruce glanced over at Tony to see him sneak a look in his direction between bouts of furiously tapping away at the hologram projected from the face of his watch.

“Well you clearly suspect her of being some sort of spy, and before Thor interrogated her, he said he thought she was somehow controlling Loki. I personally don’t agree with either theory,” he said, and Fury raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“So what is your theory then, Dr. Banner?” he asked, his voice mockingly skeptical. Bruce glanced to his right to see Natasha watching with rapt attention, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit surprised by the fact that she seemed so invested in this woman’s future—perhaps she wasn’t really as heartless as she’d like her colleagues to think.

“I believe she’s innocent, and I’d like to prove it. All I need is a chance to speak to her myself,” he said after a pause.

“And what do you intend to say to her?” Fury asked. Bruce glanced down at the blank pad of paper before him.

“Whatever I need to in order to find the truth,” he replied simply, looking back up at Fury with an earnest honesty. Bruce let out a silent sigh of relief as Fury leaned back, seemingly satisfied.

“Very well,” Fury said with a nod, rising from the table. “Perhaps you’ll be able to get more out of her than frustrated shouting and tears,” he said, and Bruce clenched his fist in an effort to remain silent. He knew from experience that interrogations could be rough, sometimes even brutal, but this woman had no past offenses, wasn’t hostile, and they had no reason to believe that she wasn’t being truthful about her innocence. Bruce knew he’d been told he was fighting for the right side, but the idea of Fury and Thor making a defenseless grad student cry thoroughly rubbed him the wrong way.

Fury cleared his throat and Bruce realized he’d gotten so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t noticed the other man make his way across the room. Bruce rose from his seat to follow him across the room, but as he passed by the end of the table a hand shot out and grabbed his arm.

Natasha pulled Bruce closer so that his ear was just beside her mouth.

“What are you really going to say to her?” she asked, and before he could respond she’d tightened her grip on his arm. “And don’t give me any of that tough guy crap; I want the truth,” she hissed, and he turned to see her green eyes boring into his.

“I’m just going to talk to her,” he assured her, trying his best to convey his sincerity. “I want to hear her side of the story—to listen to her in the way the rest of them refuse to.”

“Banner!” Fury called agitatedly from down the hall, but Bruce didn’t tear his gaze away from Natasha’s. She hesitated for a moment, scanning his face for any sign of dishonesty before finally releasing his arm with a nod. Bruce stood at his full height, glancing down the table to see Tony Stark staring right at him, clearly having heard their hushed conversation.

“I won’t let them hurt her again,” Bruce promised as he turned back to Natasha, and he waited for her to nod in acknowledgement before he jogged down the hall after Fury.

Bruce fidgeted with the wristband of his watch as he waited for the armed guard to type in the code that would unlock the heavy metal door before him. He fumbled with the soft leather in a vain attempt to calm his nerves, but still found himself hastily trying to organize his thoughts as the realization of what he’d volunteered to do slowly dawned on him. He’d spent his life trying to find ways to save people, but his cures had always been based on science—never before had someone’s life depended on his conversational skills. He didn’t want to consider what this woman’s fate might be if he couldn’t come up with something to show that she wasn’t the scheming informant Thor was convinced she was.

Bruce looked up as the door silently swung open, and he paused before entering the room to turn to Fury. He held out his hand to the other man, who arched an eyebrow as if to say ‘what the hell do you think you’re doing?’

“She’s handcuffed isn’t she?” Bruce asked, and when Fury’s expression didn’t change he repeated the gesture. “You can’t possibly actually think she’s dangerous, least of all to me. Give me the keys,” he said, and Fury shook his head with a pityingly amused smile before reaching in his pocket and handing Bruce a slender metal rod on a small ring.

“Do you ever wonder if perhaps you’re too trusting for your own good, Dr. Banner?” Fury asked, and Bruce hesitated for a moment in the threshold.

“I think sometimes bad things happen to good people, and no one should be punished solely for their bad luck,” Bruce told him, and he didn’t wait for Fury’s response before he entered the cell.  

Bruce ignored the metal chair and table in the center of the room to instead focus on the young woman seated on the floor to his right. She leaned against the wall with her legs pulled close to her chest, her cheeks flushed and glistening with the recently shed tears she awkwardly wiped away with her bound wrists. Bruce tried to hide the intense pity mixed with loathing he felt as he thought about the things Fury and Thor must’ve done—must be capable of doing—if they’d managed to put a defenseless woman in this state.

Bruce offered her a companionable smile and was pleased to see that her shoulders relaxed slightly at his show of good faith. She continued to watch him warily as he crossed the small space between them, her tired blue eyes following his every move as he lowered himself to the ground before her. She looked exhausted and fragile huddled before him on the cold floor, and he knew that there was no way he’d break his promise to Natasha—he was getting this girl out of here, whatever it took.

“I apologize for the way they’ve treated you,” Bruce told her sincerely, and she blinked at him in surprise before shifting to sit up a bit straighter.

“Does that mean you aren’t going to threaten or shout at me?” she asked challengingly, her voice strong, and he involuntarily raised his brows as he picked up on far more defiance in her voice than he’d expected. Her rather prominent Russian accent added even more boldness to her tone, and her clear blue eyes stared at him as if daring him to defy her. Bruce allowed himself a small smile, already beginning to see how this woman had managed to make an enemy of Thor in such a short period of time.

“I’m here to hear your side of the story,” Bruce told her, and her shoulders sagged with relief as her expression brightened at his words. Bruce motioned for her to bring her hands closer, then slid the metal rod Fury had given him into a small slot in her handcuffs.

“Finally, a man with some sense!” she sighed in exasperation as she rubbed at her newly freed wrists. Bruce couldn’t help but chuckle as she grinned as if she’d won the lottery. It was startling how different she looked when smiled; the fear and anger disappeared from her face, and Bruce couldn’t fathom how anyone could do anything that might wipe away that smile. “Those other two men—they aren’t coming back are they?” the woman asked, bringing Bruce back to the conversation at hand as a hint of fear crept back into her voice.  

“No, it’s just me,” he assured her, and she nodded. “But I need you to tell me what happened, how you ended up here, if I’m going to be able to help you,” he added gently, and she nodded, pushing her dark hair out of her face and folding her legs beneath her.

“First of all, I really don’t have any idea why I’m here,” she told him, and when Bruce nodded her smile returned. Bruce could see that this woman greatly appreciated his faith in her, and oddly enough he found that he enjoyed being the one whose trust she could rely on.  “I only met Loki a few hours ago, and he…well, he was on the run from Captain America and Iron Man when I first saw him. When he asked me for help, I hid him in my closet.”

The woman paused, now refusing to meet his eyes when a moment before she’d intently held his gaze. Bruce tried not to imagine what it was she was attempting to gloss over. He knew how tales of gods who encountered beautiful young maidens tended to go, and judging by the redness in her cheeks her experience had been no different from those recorded in mythology.

“He told me that he was on the run because of the Tesseract,” she said in a rush, looking up at Bruce once again as a hint of a guilt flickered across her expression. “He said he was trying to keep them from using it as a weapon. He said he wanted to use it for good, to help people save themselves,” she said distractedly. Bruce leaned forward, his voice strong and earnest as he desperately tried not to jump to conclusions without enough data.

“So he said Steve and Tony were in the wrong? He made it seem as if he was justified in taking the Tesseract?” Bruce clarified, his heart pounding and his mind racing. He was beginning to wonder if everything Loki had told her was really just an example of his deceptive powers, or something far worse—the best lies were, after all, planted with a grain of truth.

“Yes, that’s what he said. Why? Did they tell you something different?” she asked with a frown, clearly trying to reevaluate what she’d been told as well.

“Never mind what they told me,” Bruce said, trying to stay on topic, but she crossed her arms over her chest defiantly.

“Did Loki lie to me about the Tesseract?” she demanded, and Bruce hesitated before answering. He knew he couldn’t possibly give any information away despite the fact that he believed her to be innocent. But he also knew there was no way she’d let him get away without at least acknowledging her question.

“I can’t really say,” he said evasively, but upon seeing that she was about to ask again in a far less polite manner, he quickly added on a question of his own. “Do you think he lied to you?” Bruce asked, and she looked away from him as she bit down on her bottom lip.

“Why would he lie to me?” she asked, her voice ripe with a surprising amount of sadness, and Bruce wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Well why do people ever lie?” he asked, and she glanced down at her hands folded in her lap. A long moment of silence passed before she finally responded.

“Because they’re afraid,” she told him, and Bruce raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“I was thinking more along the lines of because they want something from you,” Bruce said honestly, and she looked startled, as if she’d been trying to keep her mind from straying in that direction but now couldn’t deny the truth in his words.

“But what else did Loki say?” he asked, shifting his position on the ground as he tried to steer the conversation back on track with the added bonus of possibly lifting her spirits.

“Not much, really,” she said, her tone almost relieved. “He said we needed to leave, but then Captain America and Iron Man showed up after only a few minutes of walking. They obviously wanted to bring Loki here, and I guess I was just part of the package.”

“That sheds a little light on the theory that you’re a spy,” he muttered to himself, and her eyes widened.

“I’m not a spy,” she cried indignantly, her expression outraged despite Bruce’s attempts to remind her that he was on her side.

“I know you aren’t. Even Fury—the first man who interrogated you, who’s programmed with cynicism and whose right hand doesn’t trust his left—doesn’t seem to buy it. He thought that maybe Loki planted you here as an infiltrator, but after the way his interrogation went I doubt he still believes it,” Bruce told her, and the woman seemed to calm down slightly but still looked more than a little cross. “But you said you and Loki were both on the airship, and we know Thor barged in and took him—so where is he now?” Bruce asked, thinking aloud. He blinked in surprise a moment later when her eyes began to water with tears.

“I wish I knew where he was. Maybe then I could make him get me out of this damn box and explain what the fuck is going on,” she cried, slamming her fist into the ground. She then let out a shout of pain and cradled her hand close to her chest, turning her face away from Bruce before letting out a single sob.

“Hey, it’s ok,” Bruce said in his gentlest tones, placing a calming hand on her elbow without thinking. She looked over at him with wide eyes and he quickly retracted his hand, but didn’t lean away from her. “I’m going to get you out of here,” he promised, and instead of replying with a sarcastic retort as he’d expected she merely stared at him.

“How?” she asked, and Bruce hesitated for a moment, taking in her runny nose, red eyes, and flushed cheeks before rising to his feet.

“I’m going to convince them that you’re innocent, and then badger them until they give you some food and a decent place to sleep.”  She smiled at that, and Bruce smiled back. He then knocked on the wall to signal that he wanted to exit the room just before she spoke up once more.

“Wait, what’s your name?” she asked, and he squatted down in front of her, right hand extended.

“I’m Bruce,” he told her, giving her hand a light squeeze and holding onto it for a bit longer than necessary.

“I’m Aleksandra,” she offered, and he nodded with a smile.                     

“The name suits you,” he told her, and she smiled before frowning a moment later.

“What do you mean it—“                                                 

“Dr. Banner, you’re needed in the control room,” the man who held open the door called, and Bruce rose to his feet.

“I’ll explain later,” he promised, and Aleksandra looked as if she wanted to argue but would settle for waiting until their next meeting for an answer.

“You will get me out of here, won’t you, Bruce?” she called a heartbeat later, scrambling to her feet as Bruce crossed the threshold. “This wasn’t just some cruel scam, some way of fishing for information?”

“No of course not. I meant what I said, Aleksandra. I’m going to get you –“ his words were cut off by the slamming of the cell door, the solid steel wall swinging shut to separate him from Aleksandra in an instant.

Bruce turned to glare at the guard, who stood with his face pointedly turned in the opposite direction.

“Agent Fury says it’s urgent,” the man explained in a tone completely void of expression, and Bruce glared at the back of his head the entire way down the corridor.  

 

 


	5. Suspicion

Aleksandra jerked awake as the cell door opened yet again, and her heart lifted momentarily at the thought that Bruce might be back; disappointment weighed heavily on her shoulders when a guard stepped into the cell instead. But her mood did improve when he motioned for her to rise and follow him out of the room, and she couldn’t help but smile as she finally exited the cell. She made a mental note to thank Bruce for his kindness, for believing her, and, most importantly, getting her out of that damn box as Loki had failed to do.

Aleksandra followed the armed man down a long corridor, painfully aware of the gun that rested on his right hip. An identical officer followed close behind, sandwiching her between them in the narrow hallway; apparently their decision to release her didn’t mean she was now free of all suspicion.

The men came to a halt before a blank space in the wall, and she wondered if perhaps they’d made a wrong turn when the man in front of her tapped a pattern against the surface and a section of the wall slid open. Aleksandra stared wide-eyed at the area the man had just touched, unable to detect any sign of a keypad, and was so engrossed in trying to figure out how this hidden door-wall contraption worked that the guard behind her had to lightly push her forward into the room.

The moment Aleksandra was fully over the threshold she heard the sound of something slide shut behind her, and turned to see a completely blank wall before her. She ran her fingers along where the door should have been, but couldn’t detect a single seam or crack in the paint.  Giving up after a few more minutes of inspection, Aleksandra turned her attention to the room.

She quickly took in the room’s only object: a twin-sized bed with sheets and a blanket folded beside it tucked into the far corner of the room. She took a few paces forward before noticing another room that hadn’t been visible from her position near what had once been the door. A tiny bathroom was set into a deep enclave in the wall with a light curtain that could be pulled across the entrance to create the illusion of privacy.

She gratefully used the fully functioning toilet before switching on the shower, flinging off her clothes before greedily clambering in to stand beneath the deliciously hot water. After a lengthy and much appreciated shower, she exited the bathroom wrapped in a coarse towel only to see that a new set of clothes and a meal of soup, bread, and milk had been set out for her on a desk that hadn’t been in the room when she’d inspected it before. Ignoring how uncomfortable it made her to think of strange men prowling around the room while she’d been in the shower, Aleksandra pulled on the standard issue military t-shirt and pants before scarfing down every last bit of food she’d been given.

She then padded across the room and didn’t even bother making the bed before she collapsed onto the mattress and instantly fell into a deep sleep.

Aleksandra drowsily blinked her eyes opened what felt like days later, but she was immediately alert the moment her brain registered the sight of Loki sitting beside her on the small cot.

“What are you doing here?” she cried in a whisper, not sure whether or not they’d be overheard as she sat up so fast she felt lightheaded.

“How have they been treating you?” Loki asked, reaching forward to tuck a lock of her disheveled hair behind her ear. Aleksandra tried to focus on asking him exactly how he’d managed to get in—and why he hadn’t come earlier—but she could only think about the shiver that ran down her spine when his fingers brush against her cheek.

“I’ve lived through worse,” she answered, and he smiled slightly, his blue eyes soft and kind. “But Loki where were you? What’s going on?” she asked, and his fingers traced down to her mouth, her breath catching as they grazed her lips.

“That is not of import at the moment,” he told her, his voice low as he leaned in closer, and she could feel his breath on her face, so warm and delicious and dear God Aleksandra was so hungry—for his touch, for his kisses, for his everything.

“It’s very important,” she told him, but her voice lacked all conviction and her eyes fluttered shut as he placed a faint kiss on her cheek, his lips just barely making contact with her skin.

“Not right now,” he breathed, sliding his hand up her sleeve to trace patterns along her upper arm.

“Loki please just tell me what’s going on,” she whispered, her body leaning ever closer to his even as she spoke, desperate for an increase in pressure, and increase in anything. “I’m so confused—please,” she begged, but he completely disregarded her plea in favor of covering her mouth with his.

Aleksandra immediately responded to the kiss, and her mind was totally wiped clean of any need for information as Loki’s lips tugged at hers, each of their kisses hungrier than the last. All she could think about was how she never wanted this pleasure to end, how she wanted to keep him pressed against her forever and anything that jeopardized her chances of being with him had to be destroyed.

She craved him more than she’d ever imagined was physically possible, wanting nothing more than for him to devour her completely. His grip on her arm was painfully tight but she ignored the discomfort, instead focusing on the way his other hand had slid beneath her shirt to slide down her lower back. Aleksandra’s spine arched into him in response, her small breasts pressed hard against his chest as she tightened her grip on his shoulders and tried to pull him closer. Loki had made a point of dominating the kiss, but Aleksandra couldn’t resist pushing her tongue into his mouth as his hand moved below the waistband of her pants to grip her bare ass.

She let out a yelp of pain as Loki suddenly bit down hard on her bottom lip, and she jerked away from him, tumbling back onto the bed and lifting a hand to her wounded mouth. Aleksandra stared at Loki in shock as she tasted blood, glancing down at her fingers to see them stained scarlet. He was panting heavily, his pupils huge and his eyes slightly crazed, and he quickly rose from the bed.

“Where are you going?” she cried, but he didn’t respond, and a moment later he’d vanished, leaving no sign that he’d ever been in the room other than her wounded lip. Aleksandra stared at the area of the floor where he’d just stood, and she wondered exactly how many powers Asgardians had mastery of; if he could seemingly teleport, what couldn’t Loki do?

After those few minutes of such heated passion, of being so close to someone else, the solitude in the barren room was now nearly unbearable. Aleksandra found herself gently prodding at the sore on her mouth, repeatedly reliving those moments of delicious pleasure just before his teeth had pinched down on her.

Apparently Loki had finally decided on how to respond to her challenging his dominance, she reasoned. And, although Aleksandra was a little unsettled by how violently he’d reacted to her forwardness,  something foul and dark and foreign within her desperately wished Loki would return, even if only to punish her again.

Aleksandra flopped back onto the bed and pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes as she let out a heavy sigh. Loki had abandoned her again, left her tense and restless and needy--and, worst of all, he’d left her even more confused than she’d been before.

How had he gotten into this barren room with its door that had effectively molded into the wall once she’d entered? And, if his godly powers enabled him to sneak into this enclosed area, why hadn’t he come to her when she’d needed him most, back in that cold metal box where she’d been shouted at until she’d nearly broken? What’s more, where had he gone? Sure Aleksandra’s forwardness seemed to have upset him, but where could he possibly have disappeared to now?

The more Aleksandra thought about it, the more annoyed she became. She’d been counting on Loki to give her answers, to explain why she was here and exactly what was going on. But he’d made a point of avoiding her questions, distracting her with his kisses and then running away the moment his control had been threatened.

God, what had Aleksandra gotten herself into? Teleporting gods with dominance issues, mysterious women with a sense of humor, shouting men in eye-patches, shouting men in capes...and in the midst of it all, only one man she felt truly had her best interest at heart. Sure, Loki had sworn he’d look out for her, and Natasha had been civil back on the plane. But Bruce had been the only one to reach out to her with kindness and honesty, the only one to get her out of that box--she could only assume it had been his doing--and the only one to stay true to his word.

Aleksandra pulled her hands away from her face at the sound of a faint click, and she glanced up to see a figure standing in the now open doorway to the room. The guard beckoned her closer, and Aleksandra clambered off of the bed to approach him. Once she reached the door, he stepped back and gestured for her to walk in front of him. She noted there was only one guard this time, and he wasn’t armed with a firearm; perhaps those in charge had finally realized that she posed no threat and thus didn’t need a full-scale security detail to escort her down the hallway.

The guard behind her directed Aleksandra down the hall, then into an area that resembled a small conference room. A table with a few surrounding chairs occupied the center of the room, and there was even a plate laden with an assortment of cheese, crackers, and fruit placed in front of one of the chairs.

Aleksandra immediately made a beeline for the food, and as she popped a grape into her mouth, she couldn’t help but think her captors were trying a little too hard to make up for how they’d treated her before.

But either way, food was food. Aleksandra munched on cheese and crackers as she aimlessly wandered about the room. The guard had left without even giving  a hint as to why he’d brought her here. And while her circumstances had considerably improved in the past few hours, she was still wary of further interaction with the men who’d detained her.

Aleksandra was just beginning to wonder if perhaps she’d been forgotten about and would merely be left in solitude with the dwindling supply of food until someone remembered her, when she heard what sounded like a key-card swiping in the lock. She took a handful of grapes just in case whoever was about to enter the room informed her that the food had not in fact been set out for her. But all thoughts of stealing sustenance were forgotten when the door slid open and Bruce stepped over the threshold.

“Oh, good-- I was afraid they’d forgotten to give you something else to eat,” he said with a relieved sigh, and Aleksandra felt a surge of affection for this man who didn’t even know her, who had no reason to give a rat’s ass about her well-being, and yet continuously looked after her.

“How’re you feeling?” Bruce asked as he fully entered the room and gestured for her to take a seat beside him at the table.

“I’m, uhm, I’m alright. Considering...well I don’t really have any idea what’s going on,” Aleksandra told him calmly. The rage and fury that bubbled up whenever she thought about how out of the loop she was had been oddly subdued by Bruce’s presence.

“That’s why I’m here,” he told her, shifting in his seat to face her. “There are limits on what I can and can’t say, but you deserve to at least have a general understanding of why you’re here,” he continued, and Aleksandra held back a heavy sigh of relief at the knowledge that she’d finally get some answers.  

“The people on this ship work for an agency named S.H.I.E.L.D., which specializes in dealing with...well, basically dealing with superhumans. They’ve been after Loki for the past few days, trying to get back the Tesseract before he can use it to wipe out and/or enslave humanity--that seems to be his ultimate goal. We tracked him to Germany and had him in custody, but he escaped. That’s where you came in. Fury at first suspected that you might be involved, and while Thor was convinced you were using some sort of mind control powers, it’s now pretty clear that you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Then why am I still here?” she asked, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “Cheese  and crackers are great, but I’d really rather be back home,” she told him, and Bruce looked down at his hands.

“Well...that’s one of those things I’m not really allowed to go into,” Bruce told her, and Aleksandra let out a huff of frustration.

“But if I’m not a threat, if I don’t pose any danger, what’s the point of keeping me here?” she demanded, and when Bruce looked up at her she was surprised by the genuine apology written across his face.

“I wish I could explain. Honestly, if it were up to me we’d just let you go. But I’m sorry, I don’t have the authority to make those kinds of decisions,” he explained. He reached out as if he’d briefly considered taking her hand as a form of consolation, but he apparently thought better of it.

“So what am I supposed to do, just sit here and...and wait for the lot of you to get this all sorted out?” she asked in annoyance, and Bruce could only shrug. Aleksandra leaned back in the chair with a heavy sigh.

But hang on. Aleksandra jerked up in her seat as her brain finally processed that Bruce’s explanation of the argument between Loki and those on the side of S.H.I.E.L.D. was decidedly not in line with what Loki had told her.

“So, hang on, you think Loki wants to wipe out humanity?” she demanded, and Bruce gave a bit of a jump at her sudden movement and vehement speech.

“That seems to be the angle he’s aiming for; in Germany he killed five people and injured seven, then forced a crowd to bow down to him as he promised to subjugate the entire human race.”

Aleksandra stared at Bruce in shock, unable to fathom how to respond. Had any other person on this ship told her that same thing, she would have merely dismissed their words as manipulative deception designed to turn her against Loki. But Bruce...Bruce wouldn’t lie to her. Would he? She hadn’t thought Loki, would either.

Of course, one of them was a kind and gentle man who’d given her a warm bed and food, while the other was a Norse god known for his cunning manipulation.

But perhaps Bruce had been misinformed as well. She’d received nothing but mistreatment and suspicion from these agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., and it wasn’t hard to believe that they might lie to their own operatives in order to get their way. Other than Bruce’s testimony, she had no reason to believe them above Loki.

“Where is he, then?” Aleksandra wondered aloud after a few minutes of contemplation as she recalled Loki’s appearance in and then disappearance from her room. Was he teleporting from a great distance, or somewhere nearby?

“Steve was still out looking for him the first time you and I met,” Bruce told her. “He found him and brought him on board shortly after our conversation.”

“So he’s here, then?” Aleksandra asked for clarification. If everything else about this situation was totally ambiguous, she wanted at least one thing she could be sure of.

“Yes,” Bruce confirmed, his brow slightly furrowed in response to her repeated question. Too late, Aleksandra realized that perhaps she should make more of an effort to keep away all suspicion; it probably wouldn’t be in her favor for Bruce and other S.H.E.I.L.D. operatives to know she’d been in contact with Loki. Even if Bruce didn’t think she’d already encountered Loki on board, Aleksandra didn’t want him to think she might try to contact him. That would only lead to an increase in her surveillance, and probably a decrease in friendly snack meetings.

“What’s your role in all of this?” she asked, directing the conversation away from Loki and back onto what was hopefully safer territory.

“I’m...ah, well…” Bruce gave a nervous laugh, glancing away from her as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Aleksandra watched him in confused concern; why did Bruce suddenly appear so agitated by her question? He seemed like the type who spent his time reading academic journals, lecturing college students, and testing things in labs--what about his work with S.H.I.E.L.D. could possibly be so embarrassing or shameful?

“I...I have a sort of...condition...that makes me a...valuable asset to the organization,” he said, not looking her in the eye.

“What sort of condition?” Aleksandra asked, her tone somewhere between concerned and apprehensive. He sounded as if he had some kind of debilitating skin anomaly or something. Aleksandra was all for the idea of disabilities not hindering people from reaching their full potential, but what kind of ‘condition’ could make someone a ‘valuable asset’?

“It’s hard to explain,” he told her,still avoiding her gaze. But no amount of beating-around the bush was going to stop Aleksandra from getting at least one straight answer.

“I don’t think anything could be quite as complicated as the various things I’ve seen and experienced in the past few hours. Plus, since I’m going to be stuck here for an indefinite amount of time for undisclosed reasons, you might as well humor me.”

Bruce took a deep breath, briefly ran his hands over his face and through his thick black hair, then finally turned to face her.

“It’s more of a mutation,” he told her, and Aleksandra frowned.Under any other circumstance she would’ve urged him not to view his disability with such negativity. But considering her recent encounters with gods and superheros, Aleksandra considered that he might’ve been giving an accurate description.

“I was exposed to large amounts of gamma radiation and...well, think of it as a kind of radiation poisoning. Except, instead of slowly killing me, it….hm.” Bruce paused, shifting in his seat again as he searched for the right words. “The side-effects are directly connected to my emotions. So when I get angry, I...I turn into a giant green monster,” he finished in a rush.

Aleksandra merely stared at him.

“You...you turn into a giant green monster?” she repeated, and Bruce nodded, closely watching her face to gauge her reaction.

“Yes,” Bruce told her, and Aleksandra hadn’t a clue how to respond. He didn’t seem particularly proud of it, and seemed to think of what had happened to him as more of a curse than a gift. So trying to get him to brag about the abilities S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted him for was not the right course of action. But she didn’t want to degrade his condition either; having superhuman strength was an ability that could greatly help a large number of people, and although he seemed less than proud of his abilities, Aleksandra felt the big green monster did nothing to discredit Bruce’s big heart.

“Thank you for telling me,” she finally told him after a few minutes, and Bruce blinked in surprise. He’d probably been expecting rejection and disgust, maybe even fear and hatred. But out of all the things she’d seen and heard in the past 8 hours or so, Bruce’s words were the most admirable and impressive. It had obviously taken a lot for him to confide in her, and this was clearly not information that he easily shared with a large number of people.

Yet he’d decided to trust her. He’d shown her once again that he wasn’t like the others on this ship--Loki included. Bruce wasn’t helping her because he felt obligated to, because he felt sorry for the kidnapped woman crying and alone on the floor. No, he was truly on her side, he actually valued her as a human being and even considered her worthy of confiding in.

“You’re welcome,” Bruce told her after a long pause, and Aleksandra noted a slight flush of color in his cheeks when she smiled at him.

At least as far as Aleksandra was concerned, this encounter had solidified an odd sort of friendship between them. Sure, Aleksandra depended on him to continue pushing for kind treatment on her behalf, and he’d appeared in her life as a sort of savior. But she didn’t merely see him as a ticket to a bed and better food.

She wanted to know things about him, to talk about his past and who he’d been before the green monster had arrived in his life. And she got the feeling Bruce felt the same way. He seemed to at least mildly enjoy spending time around her, and had even taken the time to check on her and give her as much information as he could.

He wasn’t just a way out for her, and she wasn’t just a charity case in his eyes. Although Aleksandra couldn’t be entirely sure what they meant to each other, she knew it was more than merely practical or superficial.

Bruce and Aleksandra both gave a slight start as a knock sounded at the door, and Bruce looked over his shoulder with what was a decidedly unenthusiastic expression.

“Dr. Banner, you’re needed on level six,” a gruff voice called from the other side of the door, and Bruce paused as if he was considering merely ignoring the summons in favor of remaining with Aleksandra.

But a second, more forceful knock sounded, and Bruce grudgingly rose from his chair.

Aleksandra rose to her feet as well, reaching out to give his hand a squeeze.

“Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me, and for just...for making me feel safe again,” she told him, and Bruce glanced down at his shoes in a way Aleksandra could only describe as boyishly--and adorably--shy.

“I’ll see you again soon,” Bruce promised, glancing back up at her, and Aleksandra impulsively leaned forward to give him a peck on the cheek.

“Watch out for the people in charge of this S.H.I.E.L.D. organization,” she advised. Bruce nodded wordlessly, and Aleksandra held back a smile as she realized her quick kiss might’ve been the thing to rob him of speech. She quickly sobered as she remembered she was trying to wish Bruce well, not lose herself in his adorableness. “They might not be as squeaky-clean as they’d like you to think,” she finished, just before a third knock pounded on the door.

“Dr. Banner! We need to go--now!” the rather pissy guard called from the other side of the door. Aleksandra’s hand slid out of Bruce’s as he pulled away from her, and he gave her one last smile with a slightly awkward little wave before he exited the room.

Once he was gone, Aleksandra slumped back into her chair and absentmindedly munched on crackers as she tried to sort out exactly what just happened.

Loki was rumored to be a genocidal maniac, S.H.I.E.L.D. claimed to be the good guys but seemed quite suspicious, and her heart had given quite a noticable jump at the feel of Bruce’s scruff brushing her cheek when she’d kissed him goodbye.

God, what had she gotten herself into?

* * *

Aleksandra had just returned to her barren room with an exhausted sigh, absently wondering just how long she’d be detained on this lonely ship, when Loki appeared before her without warning once again. She gave a startled jump and stumbled away from him in surprise, but she was only momentarily at a loss for words before the gears in her brain kicked back into motion. Now that he’d made his presence known again, she could finally start getting some answers.

“Loki, why am I here? Why won’t they let me leave? And why did you bring me with you in the first place?” she questioned, not bothering to conceal her anger and agitation. But Loki merely stared at her with a blank and mildly disinterested expression.  

“What do you really want to use the Tesseract’s power for?” she continued, growing more annoyed by the second as he just stood there in silence. “I’ve heard some very worrying stories about you; don’t you at least want to defend yourself?” Aleksandra asked, her words now sounding more like a desperate plea than a demand.

She’d been willing to believe what Loki had told her about the government being in the wrong when he’d first explained his situation back in Germany. But she couldn’t just ignore what Bruce had told her about S.H.I.E.L.D.; she wanted to at least give Loki a chance to defend himself, but he didn’t seem to want to take it.

“I know of your correspondence with Dr. Banner.”

Aleksandra felt a chill run up her spine as Loki finally spoke. His words were low and cold, and there was a distinct cruelty in his gaze that Aleksandra had never seen before.

“We’ve spoken, yes. He was the one to get me out of that cell,” Aleksandra told him, her tone sharper and more clipped than was wise. She knew ruffling Loki’s feathers was beyond a terrible idea, especially when he was in such an odd mood.But she couldn’t move past the fact that Bruce had actually kept his promise to help her, while Loki had merely dragged her along just to abandon her.

She wanted Loki to understand that she wasn’t just going to dutifully accept what he’d done to her; she needed explanations and apologies. And even if she knew he wasn’t likely to give them to her any time soon, she was still determined to keep trying.

“You enjoy the time you spend in his company, don’t you?” Loki growled, his face contorting into a horribly sinister smile. His teeth looked quite a bit sharper than she remembered, and his eyes seemed empty and void; Aleksandra was suddenly struck with an ever growing genuine fear of this creature she’d once pitied.

“I suppose. He’s nice,” she confessed, but she regretted adding that last bit a moment later as Loki took two long strides forward to wrap his long fingers tight around her wrist. She looked down at where he held her arm, and her mind was instantly brought back to their brief time together in Germany. He’d grabbed her in exactly the same way then. He’d been just as dangerous then as he was now. But something had blinded her to his hostility, something had kept her from seeing him as he truly was.

Until now.

Aleksandra knew any attempt at escape would prove futile; whatever Loki wanted, Loki would have. But she continued to back away from him nevertheless, pulling at her arm even as he continued to approach and tighten his grip.

“He’s nice, is he? Nicer than I am?” Loki hissed, yanking on her wrist when Aleksandra hesitated in the face of his interrogation.

“You’re hurting me,” she told him in favor of stepping into his trap, and to her horror Loki’s smile only widened. Aleksandra winced as his grip closed around her other wrist as well, his hands now holding her rigid and scared against him.

“Would you really take his word over mine?” Loki cooed, his voice all velvet and warmth now as he brushed his nose against her ear, and Aleksandra’s mind had never been so confused.

She didn’t want this. He was hurting her, he was manipulating her, and she wanted it to stop.

But she couldn’t get away from him, couldn’t breathe well enough to call out for help, could barely even think straight as he continued to purr into her neck.

Aleksandra didn’t want this. But some foreign power, some outside influence, wanted to make her think she did.

“Why did you bring me here?” Aleksandra panted, falling back on her previous questions in an attempt to keep her thoughts from going under. A thick fog was settling in over her mind, and she knew she didn’t have much longer before it took over completely.

“Dr. Banner seeks only to deceive you,” Loki whispered, his voice dripping with persuasion, but Aleksandra shook her head.

“No, no Bruce wouldn’t lie to me,” she insisted, babbling like a stubborn child.

“Bruce?” Loki roared, his demeanour changing entirely upon Aleksandra’s use of the doctor’s first name. “You’re that fond of each other, are you?” he hissed, shoving Aleksandra back against the wall. Her head slammed against the surface, her vision going spotty as Loki pinned her hands above her head in a show of dominance.

He wanted to control her, Aleksandra blearily realized. That’s what this was all about, that’s why he’d brought her along and insisted on keeping her in the dark. He’d lost control of his own life, so he’d decided to control hers instead.

“Did you fuck him?” Loki growled, and Aleksandra shook her head again as she tried to wriggle out of Loki’s grip.

“No...don’t want...let me go…” She could barely condense her fuzzy thoughts into words as her brain gave over to the dense foreign influence. But even if she couldn’t articulate it, even if someone else would soon wield power over her mind, Aleksandra knew this wasn’t what she wanted.

“You did, didn’t you?” Loki sneered, his face an ugly mask of contempt. “I suppose I’ll have to reclaim you then, since it appears you’ve forgotten to whom you belong.”

Aleksandra violently jerked her head to and fro, desperately trying to avoid Loki’s vengeful mouth. But he merely held both her wrists with one hand and used the other to firmly hold her jaw, forcing her to surrender to his kisses.

And just as she knew she would, Aleksandra found it harder to remember why she was fighting Loki in the first place as his mouth continued to devour hers. She couldn’t focus, couldn’t concentrate, all she could do was feel.

She was entirely unable to protest when Loki shoved his hand down her pants, his touch more like ice cicles than fingers as he sent her legs clenching and her body squirming against him. He pressed himself harder against her, growling into her mouth and biting hard at her lips, and Aleksandra’s mind was flooded with the illogical but undeniable desire to be controlled. Any and all thoughts of retaliation were long gone as she found herself whimpering into the kiss, wordlessly begging him to fuck her properly or at least shove his icy fingers into her.

But Loki refused, ceaselessly rubbing around her opening but neglecting to push into her. She let out a frustrated groan as he began vigorously rubbing against her clit, and she couldn’t help but whine and beg when his chilly touch started to become nearly unbearable.

But rather than give into her pleas, Loki responded by wrapping his hand around her neck without warning.

“Apologize!” Loki commanded in a breathless and wrathful shout, and Aleksandra merely stared at him in shock. She could hardly breathe, let alone speak, and when she didn’t reply Loki merely repeated the demand, squeezing harder now.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Aleksandra gasped out, and Loki’s entire disposition changed the moment the words left her mouth. He looked relieved, no longer cruel and heartless but more like a worried child that had since been consoled.

And then he was gone, just as suddenly as he’d appeared.

Aleksandra collapsed to the ground, heaving and retching for breath to little avail.

Then came the sobbing.

All of her true thoughts and feelings, the emotions and convictions that the haze had suppressed, had come surging forward the moment Loki had vanished. She felt violated and humiliated, completely degraded and used. Aleksandra knew she’d wanted nothing to do with Loki, that she’d wanted him to stop, to leave her alone, to just explain what he’d done and nothing more.

She’d tried to fight him off. She’d tried to make him stop.

She’d been screaming in her mind the entire time, but she hadn’t been able to hear her own thoughts.

He’d been stronger, he’d manipulated and deceived her from the very beginning. He’d taken what he had no right to touch from her. He’d heard the screaming in her head and silenced it because it had gotten in the way of what he wanted.

He’d stolen her thoughts, her actions, her words, and her dignity.

He’d tried to own her.

But she wouldn’t let him.

Aleksandra would not let him win.

This was no longer about right or wrong, about protecting the world from an evil darkness or saving the greater good. Those things were fine, but they’d never really motivated Aleksandra enough to for her to take action; she’d always been content sitting on the sidelines cheering on the good guys.

But the game was different now.

Loki wanted to control her, but he’d failed to realize she could control him as well. Aleksandra now had something she could use to make herself stronger, to help Bruce and the others crush Loki under the heel of her boot.

To make him pay for what he’d done to her.

To prevent him from ever hurting anyone else again.  

Because she now had hatred on her side.

And if love could move mountains, god only knew what kind of damage Aleksandra could wreck with enmity.

 

 


End file.
